


Legacy

by PowerOptix



Series: The Dysfunctional Saga [3]
Category: Toontown Online
Genre: 2007 Fic, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Other, and a whole boatload of OCs, more lore/world building, more of a focus on the Cogs this time, written when Toontown Online was still owned by Disney
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 10:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11598516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PowerOptix/pseuds/PowerOptix
Summary: Following the success of his final experiment, Wilson B Cheese begins assembling his attack force. Will the Toons be able to stop him in time?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Well here it is. The beginning of the second fic in the Hybrid trilogy. X3  
>  When I first started out writing Dysfunctional, I didn't think anyone would like it. Boy was I wrong. ^^  
> This fic may take a few chapters to really get rolling, and it's slightly badguy centric. Enjoy.**

Roxy McSocks half opened her eyes. Something warm was snuggled up against her, in what felt like a suit. Her eyes shot open all the way, hoping to see Telemarketer 118-7. She sighed when she saw it was just her Hybrid daughter, Sal.

How weird was _that_? She had a full grown daughter who's father was a Cog, was at best a night old and she herself was only 18. How was she going to explain _this_ to her parents?

Roxy sighed again, pulled Sal into a hug and closed her eyes.

 

* * *

The Chief Financial Officer rubbed the rest of the sleep out of his eyes as he entered his office. He had just reached his desk when the phone rang.

“Nine?” he yawned down the phone. “Who is it at this hour?”

“It's the VP sir, he says it's urgent.”

The Cashbot sighed. “All right, put him through.”

“Jacques?” came the voice of the Senior Vice President.

“What time do you call this, Elmo?” he grouched. “I'm not even at my desk yet.”

“This is urgent.”

“So you said.”

“Our Cogs may be capable of falling in love with a Toon.”

He blinked. “. . . Whut?”

“All right, let me explain. You know of Telemarketer 118-7 and Roxy McSocks, I hope.”

“Yu-huh?”

“Well they fell in love.”

“They did what?”

“They fell in love,” the VP patiently repeated.

“. . . How?”

“Obviously I can't explain how or why the Toon did, but the Foreman analysed Seven's hard drive and discovered a program that made him reciprocate her feelings. It's been in a dormant state since his construction. Which suggest that all my Sellbots, at least, could do the same.”

“Elmo,” the CFO objected. “It's too early in the morning for this.”

“Well tough, now you know.”

He sighed. “I guess I'd better make looking into it the first thing on my agenda.”

“Let me know if you find anything.”

“Well duh.”

The Vice President chuckled. “Good morning to you too, Jacques.” Then hung up. He rubbed one eye, picked up the phone again and dialled 159-2, the Lawbot Second-in-Command's extension number.

 

* * *

Mayor Flippy's brow furrowed in deep concern. “And you're sure he won't . . . manufacture more of these. . . Hybrids?”

Mercedes Paw nodded. “From what I overheard when he was explaining to the VP, he was hinging it all on Sal.”

Flippy glanced over at her. “Hmm. I'll have to discuss this further with Gyro. Though, what are we going to do with her?”

“Well. We were hoping you would be able to answer that.”

He sighed and turned to Sal. “What are you prepared to do?”

The Hybrid scratched her chin. “Um, well. I'm half Cog, so I'd be happy to do paperwork. But since I'm half Sellbot, I'd prefer to be able to sell things.”

“I don't suppose we could expect you to attack Cogs?”

She looked horrified by the idea.

“Thought not,” he sighed. “All right, I'll see what I can do.”

 

* * *

Ursula Cheese stared nervously around at the faces of the four Cog Bosses. The Chief Financial Officer regarded her father with a neutral, if somewhat troubled expression. The Vice President looked a little on edge, the Chief Justice did not look happy to say the least and her older brother, the Chief Executive Officer just looked confused.

“So I presume you gathered us here to explain why you went against my orders?” the Lawbot growled.

“Indeed,” Big Cheese replied. “Hybridising Roxy McSocks and 118-7 was to be the last experiment, to see if they would solve the problem. If they did not, that was to be the end of it. If however, it had worked, and the Hybrids were born sane, I was hoping you would reconsider.”

“Reconsider? Why did you think I put an end to the experiment?”

Doubt crept into Big Cheese's expression. “Why, because the Hybrids were insane, savage and controllable, with no sign of improvement and. . . despite our best attempts, a lot of my Bossbots lost their lives to them.”

“That's incorrect. I put an end to the experiment to put an end to the creation of Hybrids in their entirety, sane or insane.”

The Master blinked. “But. . . why?”

“Because they're an abomination!” he snapped and glared at Ursula who looked stung by the comment. “If Hybrids were meant to exist, Cogs would be able to breed with Toons.”

“But we could stand a real chance of-”

“Enough! I won't hear anymore of this! Get out of my chambers and take that. . . thing with you!”

The Bossbot's fists clenched and his eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

“I think we should put it to a vote.”

All eyes turned to the Senior Vice President.

“What?” the Chief Justice asked, stunned.

“You heard me, Monty. Put it to a vote.”

“Elmo, are you siding with Cheesy?” the CFO asked, struggling to comprehend the fact.

The Sellbot shrugged. “I just don't think it fair for the five of us, well, one, to decide whether our Cogs can have the opportunity to become a parent or not, regardless of whether or not this is what Cheesy wants. And especially, just because you're opposed to the idea, Monty. I say put it to the vote. Let our Cogs decide.”

“Elmo, I cannot believe I am hearing this.”

“He's got a point though, Monty. As it stands, you're the only one with the big issue.”

The Lawbot glared at him. “You too, Jacques?”

“Yeah. Me too. Whatever our Cogs decide, I'll stand by it.”

“Consider this, Lamont. Do you pass laws, or make changes to existing ones without a vote?”

He grit this teeth, then sighed. “Touche.”

The Vice President turned to the CEO. “What about you, Roscoe. What do you think?”

The young Cog looked taken aback. “Me? Um. Well. I'm with you guys. Sorry, Monty.”

“I see I'm outnumbered. Very well then, I'll put it to a vote.”

 


	2. Chapter 1: Introducing Sal

829-5 stood in Wilson Cheese's office, listening with rapt attention.

“The Chief Justice has agreed to cast a vote. So now the future of my project is in the hands of our fellow Cogs,” he mused. “Since there has never been anything on this scale before, I'm afraid I'm not quite sure what to do. But all of our Bossbots are to vote on the required day, at Lawbot Headquarters. Why am I telling you this, you're probably wondering.” He smiled when 829-5 blinked in surprise. “Because, 829-5, I'm considering you for the role of Second-in-Command.”

The Bossbot was speechless.

“I hope you're happy with the news.”

“O-of course, Master,” he stuttered.

“Good, because as well as being capable of the role, you seem to have already established something of a rapport with my son. I'd hate to have to go the trouble of finding another candidate. Do you accept then?”

He beamed and puffed out his chest with pride. “I do.”

“Excellent. You can start by getting a census of all the Bossbots currently alive. Then liaise with the Chief Justice on how to fit them all into one day.”

Five swallowed. “Um y-yes, Master.”

“What? Frightened of Lamont? As Second-in-Command, you'll be interacting with him and the other Cog Bosses on a regular basis.”

He nodded. “Good point, Master. I'll get right on it.”

“Now bear in mind you're not the Second-in-Command yet. I want to see how you handle this first, before I make my final decision.”

“Understood.”

“Oh, before you go, what did you say to Roscoe, about the experiment?”

“Um. . .” the Bossbot dropped his gaze to the floor. “I told him we were using willing participants. . .”

“I see. Wise decision. You may take your leave now, Five.”

“Yes, Master,” he replied and left.

Wilson Cheese frowned down at his paperwork. He had no doubts that Roscoe would react badly to the truth. So to maintain a relationship with him, which was vital for the future of Bossbot HQ, Five had had to lie to him. _A necessary lie._ So why did he feel slightly guilty? _It's still a lie_ , a small voice at the back of his head replied.

 

* * *

Sal McSocks looked around in wonder at Roxy's estate. “So this is my house now, too?”

Roxy, now dressed in an orange hoodie and green skirt edged in yellow, smiled. “Yeah, Sal. It's only built for one though, so we'll have to fix you up a place to sleep.”

The Hybrid smiled and bent down to scratch Roxy's orange Doodle who had come over to investigate. Piccolo's tongue lolled and she wagged her tail, but she seemed wary; as well as picking up Roxy's scent from her, Piccolo could also smell Cog.

“Oh, that's Piccolo. My Doodle.”

“What's a Doodle?”

“They're our friends. We teach them tricks, and when we need help in battle, we can call them for help.”

“What do they get from the relationship?”

The blue cat blinked. That sounded like something her father would ask. “Well. . . we give them food and a home.”

Sal nodded. “That seems fair.” She noticed Roxy staring at her. “What?”

“You just sounded. . . Well, like a Cog.”

The Hybrid giggled.

Roxy checked her watch. “It's gone nine so Chicken'll be in school.”

“Who?”

“Chicken. She's my friend.”

“Ah.”

“Probably worried sick about me, considering the last time I disappeared was when I'd been kidnapped for the experiment. . . . Not that this time was any different.”

Sal tilted her head to one side but said nothing.

“Um, anyway. Let's get you settled in.”

 

* * *

Frantic knocking on her door heralded the arrival of Chicken McNugget and company. Roxy open it and was immediately bowled over by the gang.

“Roxy!” They cried. “Are you all right, where were you, what happened?” They asked all at once then froze at the sight of Sal staring at them in curious wonder.

“No gloves,” said Lammy, a peach cat in a green shirt with a four-leaf clover on the front and blue skirt, staring her hands.

“She's wearing a suit,” Lady Trixie, a dark brown monkey in a snowflake shirt and rainbow skirt observed.

“A Sellbot suit,” Winky Dizzypop, a green cat with yellow-green head, aqua arms and dressed in a blue shirt with purple striped and dark green denim skirt added.

“What the heck is she?” asked Teddison Carter, a brown bear in a blue shirt and red shorts.

“Hi,” she beamed. “I'm Sal McSocks.”

“Sal Mcwhat now?” asked a bewildered Chicken, a lavender feathered duck in a dark turquoise dress and shirt with dark blue stripes.

“Whoa” said King Alvin Dynocrunch, a blue dog in a tie-dye shirt and orange shorts with blue and yellow stripes on the side. “. . . Are her teeth _metal_?”

Roxy's reply was muffled by the Toons piled on top of her. They got off and helped her to her feet. “She's my Cog/Toon Hybrid daughter,” she repeated, looking a little embarrassed.

Off their shared looks of confusion, she added. “Let me explain. Though you might want to sit down first.”

They sat down where they stood and she began her explanation. Mercedes Paw had told her to skip over or alter the part where she was attacked by 118-7, so she told them that Mercedes had reached her in time and had then given her the next day off to recover and get Sal settled. When she had finished, all the girls stood up and gave her a group hug. “Oh you poor thing,” leaving Teddy and Alvin to frown and exchange concerned looks.

“Aren't you a bit young to become a parent?” Teddy asked.

“Yeah. . .” the blue cat replied. “But. . . I can't exactly turn her away.”

“Of course not,” Trixie comforted.

“Yeah, and it's not like she's a baby,” Winky added. “You can take care of yourself, can't you Sal?”

“Yup,” the Hybrid replied. “And Flippy's sorting out a job for me. Course I'd sort one out myself, but being half Cog would play against me,” she sighed. “And I'd get my own house, but. . . um. . .”

Lammy smiled and ruffled her hair. “We understand.”

She smiled and purred.

Trixie looked around. “Now then, do you need help settling in? Or are you good?”

“We don't have long, mind,” Chicken reminded her. “We're on our lunch break, otherwise school is still on for us. Speaking of, you'll be coming back tomorrow, right?”

Roxy nodded. “Uh-huh. Though.” She looked at Sal. “I don't know what you'll do while I am.”

She shrugged. “I'll just go out and about. Take myself on a tour of Toontown. You don't have to worry about me.”

“Well if you're sure. We still need to move some stuff around, but it's heavy.”

“Teddy, I believe that's our cue.” Alvin and Teddy stood up and cracked their knuckles and got to it.

 

* * *

**The next day. . .**

Cool Mac, a yellow dog in tie-dye shirt and orange trousers with blue stripes and a yellow oval over the front hurried down Sleet Street. He paused and pulled out his Shticker Book to check his Lawbot Radar. The small device which was built into the pages of the book beeped and emitted a negative sounding noise for both Lawbots and Lawbot buildings. He sighed. None on this street either. And he needed to beat up at least forty to complete a Toontask. The yellow Toon flipped to the map section of his Shticker book and looked over the neighbourhoods, trying to decide which one would be the next best bet. Though the fact that there was none in the Brrgh was most unusual, considering their Headquarters was located nearby. He closed his Shticker Book, pictured Minnie's Melodyland in his mind, held it, then threw a black hole on the ground and jumped in.

 

* * *

In Seaweed Street, Evina, a red duck in a tie-dye shirt and tan shorts closed his Shticker Book in frustration. His kingdom for a Lawbot! He'd been all over Toontown and not a single one. Not even their Headquarters had yielded a result. It was as if they had either packed up and left or had retreated further into their HQ than he dared to follow. It was time to inform Mayor Flippy.

 

* * *

Flippy looked around his office in Toon Hall, at the other occupants of the room. “What do you think they're up to, Gyro?”

The rooster scratched his chin and shook his head. “Truth be told, I can't say. Though it does seem awfully close to the conclusion of Ol' Cheesy's experiment.”

Mickey Mouse frowned and looked from Gyro to Flippy. “You think we should check it out?”

“Perhaps we should wait before doing anything,” Gyro suggested.

“Well you're the Mayor, Flippy. What do you think we should do?”

The blue dog scratched his chin, his brow furrowing. “It's either nothing or something. Tough choice.”

Mickey nodded in understanding. “Why not go half and half? Lets give them until tomorrow and see what they do.”

Flippy nodded. “All right. Let's do that. Meet here tomorrow, same time. If they haven't reappeared, we'll go and check out their Headquarters.”

 

* * *

Mayor Flippy, Mickey Mouse, Gyro Gearloose and one other Toon, Silly Paddlewhip, a dark blue dog in a tie-dye outfit and cyan shorts, stared out over the sea of Bossbots swarming the courtyard of Lawbot Headquarters from the top of one of the walls surrounding the Courtyard. It was coming up for midday, though they had all been there since fairly early in the morning. Silly had been the first Toon to approach Lawbot and he had been understandably astonished to see a large amount of Bossbots descending on the Headquarters. He had promptly rushed to Flippy, so here they all were. Simply watching.

“They seem to be coming in droves,” Mickey observed, breaking the silence at last.

“But what for?” asked Silly.

“Is the question,” Flippy agreed. “Any ideas?”

“Well this is Lawbot. I can only assume that they must be voting on some change to their law system,” Gyro replied.

“Something to do with Hybrids, possibly?” asked Mickey.

Flippy frowned recalling the words of Mercedes Paw. “Wasn't that experiment ended?”

“Mercedes never saw her own Hybrid,” Gyro pointed out. “We can't say for certain if it worked or not.”

“Why don't we kidnap a Cog and ask it?” Silly suggested.

“To this day, I have never been able to extract information from them. They'd burn out their own hard-drives before turning into a mole. And lately, they've developed their own EMP detonators to knock themselves unconscious until they can be rescued. Since the devices fry before I can examine them, I don't know how the technology works, so I can't devise a means to counteract it.”

“If only there was someway of tempting Ol' Cheesy himself out into the open,” Flippy remarked ruefully.

“He'd never rise to it. He's locked himself away in his Headquarters. Likely for good. Oh!

Speaking of, I've been working on something to help us locate it.” And just like that, Gyro was off on a tangent. “Those girls said it was there one minute and gone the next. I believe Cheesy invented something to shield his HQ from plain sight. I'm hoping this is only from the ground, so I've started construction on a flying contraption. Hopefully the location of his Headquarters will rise out of this well of mysteries we've suddenly found ourselves in.”

“Well that's good to hear. But it doesn't help us with this current situation.”

“I know,” the rooster sighed. “But it's something, right?”

Mickey patted him on the back. “Of course it is. Every little helps.”

The Mayor cast one last glance at the steady stream of Bossbots heading into Lawbot Headquarters. “All right. Staring is only going to provide so much information. We've seen enough. Though. I want you to return here tomorrow, Silly Paddlewhip and see if either Cashbots or Sellbots show up. If they do. Come again the next day to see if the remaining Cog type also show up, then report in me. Can you do that?”

The dark blue Toon nodded, pleased to be charged with the fairly important duty. “No problem.”

“Good. Let's go home, then.”

The quartet pulled out a black hole each, threw them on the ground and jumped in. A Micromanager stopped and looked around, thinking she had heard a sort of popping noise. Seeing nothing, she shrugged to herself and hurried to catch up with her sisters.

 

* * *

**Two days later. . .**

Mayor Flippy drummed his fingers on his desk as he waited. He was somewhat agitated over Silly Paddlewhip's report. The next day, the Cashbots had showed up, leaving the Sellbots the last Cog type to cast their vote the day after. And he was not even sure if that was what had occurred. But Gyro had come up with a plan. Which solved two problems in one.

He looked up at the sound of his office door opening and saw the head of Sal McSocks peeking around it. “You sent for me, Mr Mayor?”

Flippy smiled. The opening of a new shop. The Sellbots would not be able to resist.

 

* * *

**The following morning. . .**

Sal McSocks looked up from the shop's inventory at jingle of the bell above the door. Her face lit up at the sight of two Telemarketers and a Cold Caller. “Hi! Can I help you?”

The lead Telemarketer smirked. “Yes, as it happens, we want your building for our own purposes.”

Sal looked confused. “But why? This shop caters to Cogs as well as Toons.”

“You-. . . Wait what?”

“Yeah! Let me show you what I currently have in stock. Finest quality oil or your money back,” the Hybrid beamed.

“Two,” the Cold Caller whispered. “What's she doing?”

“Isn't it obvious, I'm trying to make a sale.”

Two blinked, speechless. That was without doubt a Sellbot-taught technique she was using.

“And why is she wearing a Sellbot suit?” the other Telemarketer, presumably Three asked.

“Brothers,” he finally replied, “I think we have a fangirl on our hands.”

“What should we do?” the Cold Caller asked looking somewhat perplexed by the news.

“We'll haul her back to HQ,” he smirked. “A night suspended above the launch pad should knock the fangirl out if her.” Two turned back to Sal. “You're coming with us, Toon.”

She looked delighted by the news. “Oh goody! I've meaning to go to Sellbot HQ to see what it's like.”

The three Sellbots exchanged confused and slightly frightened looks, but seized her and hauled her off to Sellbot nonetheless.

 

* * *

The Sellbot Hybrid looked around the Senior Vice President's office. Like the rest of the Headquarters, it was dull and grey, a fact that did not bother her as much as it would a full Toon. The only thing sprucing it up was the VP's mahogany desk, as well as pictures of the three other Bosses and his father adorning the walls.

Mr Hollywood Second-in-Command 717-3 looked up at the Sellbot Boss. “This is the Hybrid, is it?”

“I'm not an it!” Sal objected.

“Yes, Three. This is 118-7 and Roxy McSock's Hybrid.”

“I have a name!”

“What should we do with her, sir?” asked Telemarketer 332-2.

“Let her go, we have no use for her.”

“Not even as ransom?” asked 332-3.

He shook his head. “Her claws can cut through metal; we don't have the capability to contain her. Yet.”

332-2, 3 and 4 sighed and began to haul her out of his office.

“Wait,” Sal yelped.

“What is it, Hybrid?” Three spoke before the VP could.

“Can I say hi to my Dad?”

The giant Cog blinked. “Er. . . That's up to him.”

 

* * *

Sal McSocks glared at 717-3. “Do you mind, I would like some alone time with my father.”

The Mr Hollywood folded his arms and scowled back. “I'll be waiting outside for you.”

She opened the door to the 118 batch's room and entered, closing the door behind her. Much like the VP's office, their room was dull and grey. Four large bunk beds and a single one for the eldest were the predominant feature of the room. They were metal grated and long enough to accommodate a Mr Hollywood. Mounted on the walls were their rechargers, a small black box with cables running from it. A single large metal desk was placed against the wall, next to the door. It had a few drawers for the siblings to store their Notebooks, a single lamp on it, as well as a container filled with nine pens, and a single chair in which Telemarketer 118-7 was sitting.

He looked up from Sales Record. “Not that I'm not pleased to see you, Sal, but how did you get in here?”

“I was kidnapped,” she replied proudly.

He smiled and shook his head at her enthusiasm. So much like Roxy.

“Two things. Mayor Flippy wants to hold a meeting with you. He said you can liaise with Mum to set up a date and time. And he wants to know what all the Cogs were doing in Lawbot.”

“We were voting on whether or not Big Cheese should be allowed to create more Hybrids.”

“And?”

“Well the votes have been counted. . . And the result was. . .”

 


	3. Chapter 2: The Meeting

_16 year old Antoinette O'Toole, a yellow dog in a grey top and red skirt giggled as she walked along with 19 year old Mercedes Paw, clad in a blue shirt and darker blue skirt._

“ _What did you think?” Antoinette asked. “Wasn't he cute?”_

“ _Maaaaybe.”_

“ _Oh what do you mean, maybe? I think he was.”_

“ _Eh, he wasn't my type.”_

“ _Oh? What is your type?”_

“ _Well uh. . . guys who seem tough on the outside, but are really soft and fuzzy on the inside.”_

“ _Seriously?”_

“ _What?”_

“ _Nothing,” she laughed._

“ _What about you, then?”_

“ _Kind, honest. . . Um. . . not sure what else yet.”_

_Mercedes smiled and shook her head._

“ _What?”_

“ _Nothing,” the red Toon laughed. “Listen, Dad told me that one of those Cog things was spotted nearby, so we shouldn't hang around.”_

“ _You think they're a real threat?”_

“ _I don't know. But I'm sure we'll find out.”_

 

* * *

22 year old Antoinette O'Toole glanced at the Sellbot radar in her book. It bleeped negative. She growled, slammed her Schticker Book closed and shoved it back into her hammerspace. Those Sellbots were lucky this time.

“Hey,” said a voice.

She looked up to see a tall blue cat with scruffy blue hair, dressed in a red shirt, black trousers and a red-and-grey scarf approaching. He grinned. “Long time no see, Annie.”

Antoinette's mouth fell open. “Boxer? Boxer McSocks?”

“Last I checked.”

She ran over and hugged him. “It's good to see you again. How've you been?”

“Oh you know. Good, but then there's this war going on that I'd rather wasn't.”

“But why are you here?”

“I'm on the rescue team. To save my, er. . . niece.” He looked weirded out by that. “If she needs it.”

“Oh. . . her. . .”

Boxer raised an eyebrow. “I saw your name on the list as well. Why did you sign up if you don't think much of her?”

“It's just an excuse to beat up some Sellbots.”

“Yeah. . .” he scratched behind an ear. “Sadie told me about that development. But I don't get it. When did you start loathing Sellbots so. . . passionately and why?”

“I just do!” she snapped.

“Oh come on, you gotta have some reason.”

“Fine, you want a reason?! My Dad, he's a shopkeeper. He was kidnapped by the Sellbots, and we didn't get him back for three days! They didn't bother to feed him or give any water either! Is that good enough for you?!”

“Okay, okay, sheesh. When did you get so hostile towards your friends?”

“I'm. . . I'm sorry. Touchy subject.”

“I can tell.”

An awkward silence unfolded between them.

“Listen, uh. There's still some time before Roxy finishes school. Why don't you and I go and hunt down some Cogs?”

She smiled. “As long as they're Sellbots.”

 

* * *

The Cashbot Factory Foreman scratched the side of his head as he examined the readout on the large monitor of the Maintenance and Repair's supercomputer. He sighed. The program was so far present in all of the harddrives of the Cashbots he had scanned. He wondered if scanning anymore would be necessary. After a moment's deliberation, he unplugged the cables from the Short Change he was currently scanning and sent him on his way. The Foreman headed back to his office and phoned Cashbot Second-in-Command, Robber Baron 284-9. “This is the Foreman speaking.”

“You have the results?”

“Indeed.”

“I'll put you straight though, then.”

There was a pause before he heard the voice of the Chief Financial Officer. “Go ahead, Foreman.”

He sighed again. “Sir, it would seem that the program is present in the hard drives of our Cashbots as well.”

“Wonderful,” came the sarcastic response, followed by a sigh. “Good job, Foreman, I'll inform Elmo at once.”

 

* * *

Mercedes Paw held the pie aloft for all to see. “The cream pie. The fifth Gag of the Throw line. This had got more weight to it and thus more oomph, so you have to take your time lining up your shot, unless of course you're more experienced. Now then. You may all pick up the pie to test it's weight.”

The class did so. An evil grin spread across Daisey's face. The yellow cat, wearing a tye-die shirt and rainbow skirt pulled back her arm, took careful aim, then hurled it. Mercedes had only a few seconds to register the incoming pie before she was hit square in the face. The class roared with laughter and applauded, while Daisey took a bow.

Roxy McSocks jumped onto the table crying “Pie fight!” The table flipped up and slammed her in the face, and the two of them fell back; Roxy onto the floor, her face squashed flat, the table back into place. She pulled her nose and it snapped back when she let go. Grinning, the Toon got to her feet, looking none the worse for wear.

The whole class had erupted into a pie fight. Some were grouping into teams but mostly, it was a free for all. Pies were flying left and right. Students emitted excited cries everytime they scored a hit. Tables had been kicked over to provide cover, even some chairs. Mercedes herself, still covered in pie, was still at her place at the front of the class, bunkered behind her overturned desk. Her pies were thrown quickly and with precision. Had it been teacher versus class, she could have easily held her own.

It was just another day at the Toon Schoolhouse.

 

* * *

“So, the question is then, what are we do?” asked the Chief Justice. The four Bosses were currently locked in a four way phone conference.

“I don't suppose Ol' Cheesy's bothered by all this?” the Senior Vice President remarked somewhat acidly.

“Well, uh, Pa said I could handle this on my own,” the Chief Executive Officer explained.

“Oh. . . I see. . .”

The CFO smiled, even though the others could not see it. “I remember the first task my father entrusted me with.”

“Jacques,” the CJ scolded. “This is isn't a trip down memory lane.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You've no need to apologise, Roscoe.”

“Well I sort of started it.”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand here?” the VP interjected.

“Aww come on,” the CFO objected. “It isn't everyday we get to do a four way phone conference, does it just have to be about 'matters at hand'?”

The Bossbot Boss giggled. “Well I can't join you in any nostalgia trips, but I wouldn't mind listening in.”

“Fine, but can we do the nostalgia trip after we figure out what to do?” came the frustrated voice of the Vice President.

“Quite,” agreed the Lawbot Boss.

“But what can we do?” asked the CEO. “The Foreman told me that he couldn't delete it.”

“Hmm, well. We could make our Cogs aware of the situation, and tell them to report the development of any unusual feelings towards Toons.”

“You mean take a sort of . . . what's the phrase? Nip it in the bud approach?” queried the CFO.

“Indeed.”

“Well. . . I don't have any ideas,” said the VP. “I guess that's as good as it's going to get. Are we all in agreement?”

“Yes,” chorused the other three Bosses.

“Over to you, then, Monty.”

“I declare this meeting adjourned.”

“Good, now what about that nostalgia trip we were just talking about?” asked the Cashbot Boss.

 

* * *

“What!?” Flippy roared, getting abruptly to his feet and slamming his fists onto his desk. “What do you mean, he couldn't tell you?!”

Sal looked nervous and apologetic. “He said because I would tell you and that it's supposed to be a secret from the Toons. He'd be betraying his fellow Cogs.”

The Mayor set down letting out a frustrated sigh. “Of all the. . .”

“But he can come for a meeting tonight at five.”

“Hmm, well. . . I suppose that's something. I'd best inform everyone then.”

“I can go home now?”

“Yes, you can go home now.”

 

* * *

Roxy shook cream pie filling and crumbs from her hair. She and Chicken McNugget were in high spirits, still giggling from the pie fight.

“Hey Roxy.”

The blue cat turned at the call of her name. She squealed in delight and running-hugged her older brother. Boxer smiled and ruffled her hair. “How've you been, kid?”

“I missed you,” she replied looking sadly up at him.

He sighed. “I missed you too, Roxy, but. . . you know, I've been busy. Fighting Cogs is no easy task, you sure you want to follow in my footsteps?”

“Of course I do.”

Boxer smiled. “Then I look forward to fighting together with you.”

Roxy said nothing, thinking of 118-7.

“Soo. You have a lot to tell me, I hear.”

“Yeah. . . I do.”

“I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Rox.”

“It's all right. Like you said, you were busy.”

The elder blue cat turned his attention to Chicken. “Hey, Chickie, how's it?”

“For the last time,” the lavender feathered duck replied in frustration. “It's not Chickie, it's Chicken!”

He laughed. “That never gets old.”

She stuck out her tongue. “What are you here for, anyway?”

“Well I was called in to be on hand to rescue. . . Sal, is it?”

Roxy nodded then looked alarmed. “Wait, she needs rescuing?”

“Oh no, I was called in incase she needed rescuing. She's already reported into Flippy. And speaking of, 118-7's booked in for a meeting in an hour.”

The younger blue Toon's face lit up.

“What's this meeting for?” Chicken asked.

Boxer scratched behind his ear. “Well. . . Not sure. Apparently we're going to find out at the meeting. Me, Roxy, Rachel, Mum, Dad, Gyro and Mickey.”

Roxy's heart skipped a beat. “M-Mum and Dad?”

“And Rachel, yeah.”

She swallowed, thinking she knew what the meeting was about.

“Anyway, why don't you introduce me to Sal?”

 

* * *

Boxer looked the Hybrid up and down. Sal tilted her head to one side and watched him.

“So uh. . . It's nice to meet you, Sal.”

“Likewise, Uncle.”

An awkward silence.

“What's she like?”

“Weird,” Roxy replied truthfully. “No offence, Sal.”

The Hybrid chuckled. “None taken.”

“Sometimes she acts like me, other times she acts like her father.”

“Weird.” Boxer replied.

Another awkward silence.

“So, uh. . . you're a shopkeeper, right, Sal?”

She smiled and nodded. “That's right. I sell to natural home made Lemonade to Toons and Magnificent Oil to Cogs.”

The blue Toon raised his eyebrow. “You cater to Cogs?”

“Of course. I'm half Cog. Catering solely to Toons would be like choosing sides.”

“Hmm. Touché, I guess.”

Yet another awkward silence.

Sal's eye was caught by the clock hanging on the wall. “Goodness, the time! Dad said you'd know where to meet him, Mum.”

She nodded. He would no doubt be waiting for them at their bench.

Boxer stood up. “Let's go fetch him, then.”

 

* * *

As she was expecting, Telemarketer 118-7, his scarf billowing in the breeze, was waiting on their bench. An overjoyed beam seized her features and she ran to him.

The Sellbot smiled as he stood and was nearly bowled over by the young Toon.

“Oof! I missed you too,” he said ruffling her hair.

“I'm sure all will be explained,” Boxer remarked, wearing a troubled look of confusion.

Sal on the other hand was smiling and purring.

“Oh. . . um. . . Boxer,” Roxy began. “This is 118-7. Seven, this is my older brother, Boxer.”

Seven smiled nervously and held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Master McSocks.”

Boxer stared at it before shaking his hand. “Yeah. . .”

“Hadn't we better be getting to Toon Hall?” Sal prompted.

The blue cat blinked. “Right,” then pulled out a black hole.

Seven stared at it with wide eyes. He had never travelled via black hole before. “Is it. . . safe?”

“Well of course it's safe.”

“For Cogs?”

Boxer grinned. “Let's find out.”

The Sellbot swallowed as they all held hands and couldn't help but yelp when they all jumped in.

 

* * *

They emerged outside the entrance to Toon Hall.

“You're all in one piece, 118-7. Looks it is safe Cogs,” Boxer laughed.

The Telemarketer managed a weak smile in return.

“Hey!” a voice from behind barked.

Seven spun around, in time to receive a cream pie to the chest.

“Seven!” Roxy squealed.

The Sellbot stood there stunned for a few seconds, the health meter on his chest flashing red, then roared with laughter.

“Seven, no,” she whimpered. “You can't laugh. Stop it.”

“I. . . can't. . . help it,” he managed to choke out.

Roxy flinched when something pinged off her face. It was one of his gears! Her eyes widened and tears began to spill from them. He was dying. . . and there was nothing she could do.

 


	4. Chapter 3: The M. E. M. (Test Run)

Gyro Gearloose came out a short distance away from Toon Hall. He checked his watch. It was just before five o'clock.

Four figures emerged from a black hole a few feet to his left.

“You're all in one piece, 118-7. Looks like it is safe for Cogs,” one of them laughed.

Out of a black hole behind them emerged a yellow dog, with shoulder length, creamy orange hair. She took one look at 118-7 then immediately whipped out a cream pie. “Hey!” she barked and chucked it.

The cream pie hit the Telemarketer square in the chest.

“Seven!” the smaller blue cat squealed.

118-7 began to roar with laughter.

The yellow dog smirked.

“Seven, no,” she whimpered. “You can't laugh. Stop it.”

“I. . . can't. . . help it,” he managed to choke out.

The Toon flinched when something pinged off her face. It was one of his gears! Her eyes widened as a look of horror seized her features and tears began to spill from them. Suddenly he was tackled to the floor by a white and green blur. Gyro frantically ripped open his suit jacket and shirt, hauled open his chest plate and with one solid tugged yanked out his hard drive. Seven went limp as he powered down. “Phew. Saved.”

Boxer McSocks glared at the yellow dog Toon. “Darn it, Annie, what was that for?!”

She shrugged. “He was a Sellbot. I reacted on impulse.”

“Oh sure you did,” he growled. “How many Sellbots travel around with Toons, exactly? Or wear scarves for that matter?”

Antoinette hmphed and folded her arms. “I'm not apologising.”

“What were you doing here anyway?” asked Gyro. “I don't recall your name being on the invitation list.”

“Well I didn't know there was a meeting. I came to hand in my report. I've been investigating the Cogs in Lawbot HQ.”

“Any luck?”

All heads turned towards the entrance to Toon Hall. Sure enough there stood Mayor Flippy.

“Nothing yet, sir.”

He sighed. “All right, keep-” he spotted an unconscious 118-7 in Roxy's arms, his suit jacket, shirt and chest plate open. “Whoa what happened-. . .” There was a pause as he put two and two together. “Annie, you didn't.”

“Oh she did,” Boxer replied, shooting her a look.

“I told you, it was an impulse.”

“Is he all right?” Flippy asked, frowning.

“Oh sure.” Gyro held up 118-7's hard drive. “As long as this remains intact, he's fine.”

“Can you patch him up?”

“Well. . . they've evolved a lot since I built the originals, but I believe so. As long as we recover all his gears, that is.”

Mayor Flippy turned his gaze on Antoinette. “That'll be your job, then.”

The yellow Toon grit her teeth and growled but lowered her head and got to it.

 

* * *

Bossbot Second-in-Command Big Cheese 829-5 knocked on the door to the Master's Office. No reply. He frowned and knocked again. Still nothing. Odd. He cautiously opened the door and peeked in. Empty. Five approached Wilson Cheese's desk, glancing behind him as he did.

There was no note to inform Five as to his current location, nor had he phoned through. He was just about to leave when he noticed a small remote casually thrown onto the desk upon which was a single irresistibly inviting big red button. The Bossbot glanced around, before picking it up and pressing the button.

With a loud hiss the large bookcase on the back wall, behind the desk swung inwards to reveal a passage leading further into the wall. A secret room behind the Master's Office, Five wondered to himself. He bit his lip as curiosity became overwhelming. Glancing back one last time, he ventured forth.

At the end of the corridor was another door. Large, imposing and obviously very secure. The Second-in-Command frowned in defeat. There seemed to be no way to get through. Just as he was about to turn away, the door swung open with a mechanical whir. Five looked around in confusion wondering what had opened it and why before he cautiously entered the room. He stared around in awe.

The room was a laboratory, books lined the walls. Drawings and doodles of several versions of the Hybrid Manufacturer, including the final design and the original blueprints, various designs of machines and gadgets that Wilson Cheese had either not yet constructed or abandoned and preliminary sketches, the final design and the blueprints of the Chief Executive Officer were pinned to the walls.

“You found the remote easily, then.”

829-5 pulled his attention from the drawings and looked to the centre of the room. Ursula Cheese stared placidly back at him.

“Uh. . . am I intruding?”

“Not at all, Five,” Wilson Cheese replied without looking up from his work. The pair of them were seated at a work bench in the centre of the room. At least two toolboxes were on hand and selection of tools were also laid out on the table next to them. The Master himself was tinkering with a small, red, robot of some description while Ursula watched him like a hawk. After a moment of silence elapsed, the Hybrid pulled her gaze from her father's work and looked at Five once more. “What is it that you're here for?”

“Oh, uh. The machine has been re-calibrated and is ready for the next experiment, Master.”

“Excellent,” he replied. “I'll be down shortly.” He finished fiddling around with the inside of the small robot and closed it's metal back plate. It sprang to life and looked around the room. “Do you feel confidant enough to assemble more on your own, my dear?”

Ursula smiled and nodded. “Yes, Father,”

The Master smiled back as he patted her on the shoulder and rose from his seat. “Then I'll leave you to it.”

Five looked back over his shoulder as Big Cheese pulled him from the lab by his elbow. The small red robot watched him curiously with evil looking eyes as he left. A single, short antenna bobbed on top of its head and it moved around on large, clunky claws. They looked better capable for digging than anything else.

When the little robot disappeared from view, 829-5 turned to the Bossbot Master. “What was that?”

“Part of the Golf Courses defence system. I built them to combat the infernal creatures that keep wrecking them.”

 

* * *

Mayor Flippy glanced at the unconscious form of Telemarketer 118-7 who was sprawled out on one of Gyro Gearloose's workbenches. Gyro himself was choosing the tools he would need from their various locations around his laboratory. Organised chaos best described the rooster Toon's workspace.

“Gyro,” Flippy began. “You do realise we could use the opportunity to analyse that EMP device of theirs.”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“As well as analyse his hard drive to find out the results of the vote.”

“That too.”

Flippy sighed and nodded. “And then there would be no chance that we could convince him that this was not a set up.”

“I can't exactly blame him for concluding that as is.”

“Neither can I. Are you ready to begin?”

He nodded. “I'm ready.”

“I'll fetch Roxy, then.”

 

* * *

Wilson Cheese examined the console read out, checking over the new set of calibrations to make sure all was in order. He smirked at the Toon currently strapped into the chair in front of the machine itself. A metal helmet bearing a striking resemblance to a reversed sieve with two antenna sticking out of it was half covering her eyes, muting the effect of her angry glare. The maroon cat, wearing watermelon shirt and denim skirt struggled in her bonds. “Let me go,” she snarled.

The Master smirked. “I think not.” He turned back to the console and powered up the machine.

The large cannon began to hum as it warmed up, the three rings encircling the nozzle flashed one after the other, faster and faster until they were all a solid green. He pressed a button and the cannon fired a single shot, rocking back on its supports from the recoil.

The maroon Toon jerked then was very still, a blank expression on her face. Electricity jumped back and forth between the helmet's two antenna.

“What is your name, Toon?”

“Doctor Fluffy Sparkleberry,” she replied tonelessly.

“Good. Good. Doctor Fluffy Sparkleberry, you will not remember being captured by my Bossbots, you will not remember being locked in a cell and you will not remember what just happened, understood?”

“I will not. . . remember,” she replied.

“Now sleep.”

Doctor Sparkleberry went limp.

Wilson Cheese beamed looking very pleased with himself. He turned to 829-5. “Dispose of her.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Um. Master, may I ask a question?”

He turned to the nervous-looking Head Hunter that had just spoke up. “Certainly.”

“Well I was wondering, why not erase her memory altogether?”

“That would require another machine altogether. This is only powerful enough to induce loss of memory of up to a day. And besides, that would defeat the point of my Hybrids now wouldn't it?”

 

* * *

118-7 slowly opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered was that he had been about to literally die laughing. His surroundings were completely unfamiliar to him. It reminded him of an untidy and disorganised Maintenance and Repair bay.

“There we go, it worked,” said an unfamiliar voice. He turned his head to source of the voice. Three Toons started back at him, one, the tallest, he did not recognise. The other two were Roxy and Flippy.

Seven sat up and felt for his EMP detonator.

“Relax,” said Flippy. “We didn't touch it.”

He frowned.

“He's telling the truth, Seven. I watched them the whole time. Are you all right?”

“Yes. But. What happened?”

“You were attacked by Antoinette O'Toole, I'm afraid. She has a penchant against Sellbots, don't ask why. Then Gyro here tackled you to the ground, ripped out your hard drive and fixed you back up,” Flippy explained.

“Gyro? Gyro Gearloose?”

“Ah, you've heard of me, I see.”

“You're the Toon that built the first Cogs.”

“That's me. You know it could be said that I'm your how-ever-many-great grandfather.”

The Telemarketer raised an eyebrow at that as Roxy giggled and Flippy smiled, amused.

“But I'd rather you didn't think of me like that.”

Seven swung his legs off the table and stood up. “How long was I out?”

“Less than an hour.”

“I don't have much time left, then.”

“Darn,” Flippy cursed. “Because this meeting will more than likely take a while.”

“What exactly is the meeting about?”

“Um. . . about us. . . Right?” Roxy looked sheepishly at the other two Toons.

“Yeah, that's right.”

Seven looked perplexed. “Do they know?”

The Mayor nodded. “Last I checked, Mickey was bringing them up to date.”

“Well then, Roxy. . . I suppose it's time we faced the music, as the saying goes.”

Roxy nodded and took his hand. The four Toons and Cog headed towards the exit.

 

* * *

Doctor Fluffy Sparkleberry's eyes fluttered open. The maroon cat frowned and raised her head to examine her surroundings. She was in the hospital. But what had she done to warrant being admitted? She did not recall losing to a Cog. In fact, now that she thought about it, she could recall anything before yesterday. What had happened? Fluffy screwed up her face in concentration, trying desperately to remember. The only thing that surfaced was that it was important, and it had something to do with the Cogs. . .

 


	5. Chapter 4: Face the Music

_Mickey Mouse and the McSocks family emerged from their black holes in front of Gyro Gearloose's house. Ahead, Gyro and Flippy were carrying 118-7 inside._

“ _Is he going to be all right?” Roxy McSocks asked, looking after the pair._

“ _Sure, you heard what Gyro said,” Sal replied, not looking too traumatised by the event. “You can do anything you like to a Cog, as long their hard drives aren't damaged, they're fine.”_

_Francis, a tall dark blue cat in an orange shirt and light blue shorts frowned at her. “Who are you?”_

“ _Francis!” his wife, Martha, a light blue cat in a red shirt and maroon denim skirt scolded, elbowing him. “Don't be rude. This is Sal. Our granddaughter.”_

“ _Oh. Right. Hi.”_

“ _Hi,” she replied, somewhat flatly._

“ _Say, Flippy told me he set you up as shopkeeper,” Mickey prompted. “How's that working out?”_

“ _Oh it's good. Grandma's lemonade recipe is quite popular,” she smiled._

“ _And what about your Magnificent Oil?”_

“ _No idea. I haven't had any Cog customers yet.”_

_Flippy appeared at the door to Gyro's house. “Roxy, can you come and watch us? We don't want 118-7 to think we set him up to get at his technology.”_

“ _Oh. Sure thing.” Roxy disappeared into Gyro's house._

“ _So, Sal. Why don't you tell us more about yourself?”_

_The Hybrid blinked and stared at her grandmother. “What's there to say?”_

“ _Well. . . What sort of things do you like?”_

“ _I like most of what Mum likes and some of what Dad likes.”_

“ _Like what?”_

“ _I like selling stuff and I like sweet foods,” she volunteered after a moment of silence._

“ _Do you like muffins?”_

“ _What's a muffin?”_

“ _Why don't I take you home and bake you one?”_

“ _Martha,” Francis objected. “We were called here by the Mayor for a meeting.”_

“ _But Gyro's fixing that Telemarketer. Can't we just pop home for a bit? We won't be long.”_

“ _This is Annie's fault,” Boxer grumbled to no one in particular._

“ _Well it's fine with me,” said Mickey._

“ _Oh Sal, why don't we both bake muffins and bring them back?”_

_Sal's expression brightened as she considered the possibility of adding muffins to her inventory. “Yeah!”_

“ _Can I help?” asked Rachel, a blue cat in a pink jumper and light pink skirt asked, finally breaking her silence._

_Martha ruffled her hair. “Of course you can, dear.” She pulled out a black hole and the three jumped in._

_Francis sighed and shook his head while Mickey chuckled._

“ _I'm going to have to have a serious talk with her,” Boxer concluded aloud to himself, as if nothing had happened._

 

* * *

“ _Shay, Shal,” said Francis through a mouthful of muffin. “Theshe are 'ood.”_

_The Hybrid smiled, pleased. “I was thinking of adding them to my inventory.”_

“ _You should, they're good. I'd buy 'em.”_

“ _I will then.”_

“ _Say Mum. Weren't we supposed to go to some kind of meeting?” asked Rachel._

_Francis frowned. “Yeah, about that. What was it about exactly?”_

“ _Oh, well.” Mickey Mouse began. “It's about Roxy and 118-7.”_

“ _Oh no,” said Boxer._

_Rachel looked confused. “What do you mean 'Oh no'?”_

_Her brother grimaced. “They aren't what I think they are, are they?”_

_Mickey nodded. “Yep.”_

“ _Oh Roxy.”_

_Martha, Francis and Rachel exchanged confused looks. “What?” asked Martha._

“ _I thought she seemed a bit. . . friendly towards him.”_

_Francis blinked. “Friendly?”_

_Mickey nodded. “Needless to say, it's more than that.”_

“ _What are you guys talking about?” Rachel asked, baffled._

“ _Roxy and 118-7 are, um, an item,” Boxer explained._

_Francis jaw hung open. “What did you say?”_

_The mouse Toon sighed. “Perhaps it best if I started from the beginning.”_

 

* * *

All heads turned to the door when they heard it opening. Roxy McSocks and 118-7 emerged, still holding hands followed by Mayor Flippy and Gyro Gearloose.

Roxy and Seven exchanged nervous looks.

“So, uh,” the blue cat began. “I'm guessing you know then.”

“Yeah. . .” Boxer replied.

“Um. . . And?”

He sighed. “Roxy. . . How did this happen?”

“I. . . I don't know. When we weren't arguing he was. . . Well. Nice. Made me feel. . . special.”

“And you?”

Seven sighed. “Well. . . I thought I knew what Toons were like, but she proved me wrong. She was willing to listen. To get to know me. To. . . to love me.”

“Aww,” Martha smiled. “Aren't they cute?”

Francis scowled. “Martha. You're not encouraging this, are you?”

“Oh Francis. Don't you remember what my parents thought of you?”

“That's different.”

“How?”

“I wasn't trying to take over Toontown.”

“The principle's still the same, though, isn't it? Look at them. They're happy together. And they're not hurting anyone.”

"That's not the point. He's a Cog, she's a Toon, it will never work out in the long run."

“Uh, if I may interrupt?” Gyro spoke up. “We were hoping that 118-7 and Roxy's relationship would be a stepping stone to obtaining peace with the Cogs. We've already learned a good deal from him.”

“But. . . Why does it have to be Roxy?”

“There is no-one else,” Flippy replied, before adding. “That we know of, anyway.”

“I just. . . don't want her getting hurt.”

“I would never-!” Seven objected.

“Didn't you put her in hospital?!” Boxer snapped.

The Telemarketer was at a momentary loss for words.

“There, see? You've hurt her already.”

“I didn't. . . want to. Well I did. Then. But not now. Roxy. . . She's brightened up my life, as it were. What I had before has become dull and boring in comparison to what I have now. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose _her_.”

Roxy purred and leaned against him.

Rachel smiled, as did Martha as she looked up at Francis. “There now, what do you say to that?”

Francis sighed. “Do you feel the same, Roxy?”

“Yes. Well, except the bit about the 'what I had before was dull and boring'.”

Her father heaved another sigh. “Even though I'm not so sure about this. . . You're old enough now to make these decisions on your own. I just hope you're making a good one.”

Boxer glared at the Sellbot. “Yeah. Well. If you hurt her, 118-7, I _will_ hunt you down and kill you. Is that clear?”

Seven smiled. “You won't have to.”

“We'll see. . .”

 

* * *

Antoinette O'Toole looked up and down the hallway, checking to make sure the coast was clear. She turned her head to look back down the corridor and gestured for her group to leg it across to the other side. They team, a group of six Toons consisting of Cool Mac, Evina, Silly Paddlewhip, a cyan rabbit in a black shirt with a skull and crossbones on it and red tartan trousers, by the name of Edumacated, Captain Comet McToon, a tan dog in light blue shirt and shorts, with dark blue stripes down the side and a blue cat in a purple shirt with a flower on it and a maroon denim skirt called Melody hustled forth. Once safely across, they stopped and waited for their leader to join them.

“Once we get into the CJ's chambers, we all split up to search the room.”

There were nodding heads and murmurs of confirmation.

“Let's do this then.”

The group reached the end of the corridor and turned left down another. This one was built especially wide, large enough to accommodate a Cog Boss. They came to a halt outside a giant pair of oak doors. Wordlessly they organised themselves into a Toon ladder with Antoinette on top. She reached up and pulled the giant handle down. The door swung open on well oiled hinges. The yellow dog stared around the room. The walls, floor and ceiling were all cover in elaborate, finely polished redwood boiseries. A mahogany desk sat in the centre of the room and to one side was a bookshelf lined with books on Law. Another large door in the back of the room led into the corridor that connected the main Courtroom with the Chief Justice's chambers.

“All right, nevermind,” said Antoinette. “Seems the only logical place to search is the desk. Forward then, Comet.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Comet, the bottom Toon, grunted and started forward.

“Steady now,” said Melody worriedly as she felt herself swaying back and forth.

“Just get us to the chair, Comet, and we can go from there,” Evina advised. “Wait. . . He doesn't need a chair. Okay forget I said that.”

“You're not helping,” Comet growled.

“I'm sorry.”

Silly Paddlewhip and Cool Mac chuckled.

“And neither are you.”

“Go on Comet,” Edumacated encouraged. “You can do it.”

The tan dog struggled to the desk, then began to circle around to the drawers. “Urgh, nearly there,” he grunted to himself.

Antoinette surveyed the desk. “Hmm. I don't think that will be necessary. I've got a better idea. Move closer to the desk.”

Comet did as he was instructed.

The yellow Toon grasped the desk and braced herself. “Okay, Comet. Climb up.”

“You sure?”

“We don't have time for arguments.”

“Yes ma'am.” The Toon ducked out from under the ladder.

“Huuurf! Geez you guys are heavy.”

Comet scrambled up them as quickly as he could. Silly followed after the tan dog had climbed past him as did Cool Mac and Evina.

“You girls hang there,” said the red duck as he passed. “We can pull you up.”

“Sure thing,” Edumacated replied.

“Just don't take your time,” Melody added.

The four Toons grabbed Antoinette's arms and hauled her onto the table.

“Thank goodness for that,” she sighed, shaking her arms as they helped Melody and Ed.

“What now boss?” asked Cool Mac when the whole team was safely on the desk.

She pointed. “We pair up and grab some of those pens, then we lever the drawers open.”

They got to it.

 

* * *

After at least half an hour of rifling through the contents of each drawer, Antoinette shook her head and let out a frustrated sigh. “I should have known. There's nothing here.”

Ed popped her head out of her drawer. “Nothing here either.”

“Yeah, same,” Silly called up.

“Did we get any information at all?” asked Evina.

“Yeah,” Melody replied. “The Chief Justice doesn't appear to keep anything important in his desk.”

“Well if he doesn't keep it in his desk, it has to be somewhere else in his off-er, chambers then,” Cool Mac observed.

Antoinette scratched her chin. “Like a safe. But I didn't see anything like that when we entered. So the question is. Where is it?”

The team clambered out of the drawers to convene on the desk.

“My guess would be behind one of those pictures he has on the wall,” said Comet.

Evina nodded. “Mine too.”

Melody and Ed looked around at the pictures and spotted one that made them frown and exchange looks. “Say,” said the blue cat. “Why does he have a picture of a Bigwig?”

The cyan rabbit shrugged. “Beats me. Though this one wears glasses, so he must be special in some way.”

“It must be behind that one, then,” Silly concluded.

Cool Mac grinned. “We'll need to form a ladder again to reach it.”

“I'm not going on the bottom again,” said Comet folding his arms and scowling.

“Aww, but you did a great job last time,” Edumacated encouraged.

“Uh uh. I'm not doing it.”

Evina sighed. “Fine. I will then.”

Antoinette looked towards the door. “Let's just do this, the longer we stay here the more likely we are to be discovered.”

The group hopped off the desk and landed on the floor with a _splat_. A few seconds later, they popped back up to normal, got up, shook their heads and dusted themselves down.  The whole team froze when the main door was shoved open. “Going somewhere, Toons?” the Chief Justice sneered down at them. There were shocked looks all round. Then someone started screaming and all hell broke loose.

The Cog Boss watched, baffled as they ran screaming around his chambers like a bunch of headless chickens.

Then Comet, skidded to a halt. “Hey wait. He may be a Cog Boss, but we can take him. He can only fight in court, after all.”

Lamont smirked as he pulled out his oversized gavel, huge, even by his standards. “Oh, you think so, do you?” He brought the gavel down hard on the unsuspecting Toon. For a few seconds Captain Comet McToon was a flattened blob on the floor, which had cracked under him from the force of the blow. He popped up back to normal and collapsed, unconscious.

“Comet!” His companions cried.

Melody dashed forward. _Bam!_ Down she went.

“Melody!” Silly Paddlewhip yelped and ran to her aid. He dodged the first blow, but tripped in doing so. The Chief Justice struck again and Silly was down for the count.

Antoinette stared at her fallen comrades. He seemed to have taken them down completely regardless of Laff. Evina and Cool Mac were attempting to distract him for Ed to get in and nab one or all of them but the Lawbot Boss refused to be baited. They could not leave their fallen team mates, yet they could not get near them to rescue them. The yellow dog pulled out a cream pie. Well they worked on the Senior Vice President she reasoned why not the Chief Justice? She took aim and lobbed it hard. The pie hit him square in the face just as he had started to bring his gavel down on Ed, skewing his aim.

“Aargh!” He flinched and the gavel met the ground right next to the frightened rabbit, pulverising the floor beneath it. Edumacated thanked her lucky stars, grabbed an unconscious Melody who was nearest and teleported away.

Antoinette grinned devilishly and started lobbing more pies at him. Cool Mac quickly followed suit leaving Evina to rescue Comet. The Chief Justice coughed and sputtered as he choked some down.

“Go!” the yellow Toon cried.

Cool Mac shook his head. “No way, Boss. I have more pies than you.”

“Don't argue!” she snapped. “I'm the leader. I'm not budging till you're all out safe and sound.”

The blue dog sighed. “All right.” He dashed over to Silly, pulled out a black hole, threw it on the ground, slung the unconscious Toon over his shoulder and jumped in.

Antoinette sighed in relief then realised she was out of gags. Time for a strategic withdrawal. She pulled out her black hole and threw it on the ground. Before she jumped in she glanced up at the Chief Justice in time to see his gavel descending on her.

 


	6. Chapter 5: The Truth Will Out

_Telemarketer 118-7 cleared his throat pointedly. “If that's everything, I need to be going. Before I'm missed.”_

_Roxy McSocks looked up at him sadly. “When will I see you again?”_

_He looked apologetic. “I'm afraid I really don't know. Whenever I have an excuse to get out the headquarters for an extended period of time.”_

_She sighed and looked at the floor. “All right, then. I'll see you. . . uh, later.”_

_The Sellbot tilted her chin up and gave her a kiss on the lips and smiled. “I love you.”_

_Roxy beamed. “I love you too.”_

“ _Heeeeey!” Sal yelped as his propellors shot out of his head. “What about me? Where's my goodbye?”_

_118-7 blinked. “Oh. Of course.” He held out his arms. Sal hugged him, purring. “Look after Roxy for me while I'm gone, all right?”_

“ _Will do, Dad,” she replied and pulled away._

_Roxy and Sal held hands and watched him until they could see him no more._

_Flippy looked around at the other Toons present. “Meeting adjourned, then.”_

 

* * *

The Bossbot Foreman tapped a finger against his chin as he scowled at the monitor of Bossbot Headquarters' supercomputer.

According to the readout some unscheduled and thus unauthorised activity had been occurring. He typed something on the keyboard, trying to get more information on what the session had been about but whoever was the author had encrypted it. Even the time and date were hidden. Whoever was responsible had gone to some trouble to hide it, but, and the Foreman's brow furrowed further at the thought, not out of their way. Unless the author did not have sufficient knowledge to hide the activity completely.

So it was either someone with computer knowledge who had partially hidden the activity but not completely because they wanted to be discovered, or whatever, or it was someone with some computer knowledge who did not know how to hide the activity completely.

Either way, he did not yet know what the session, well sessions, actually, he noticed, seeing more pop up as he checked over the list and spotted three more entries, were about. He flexed his fingers and got to work decrypting the files. Whatever it was, he had a bad feeling about it.

 

* * *

Some half hour of fingers skittering over keys, frustrated tugging at his tie and frowning deeply at the screen later, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder and looked round. Another Skelecog, one of his junior team was staring back.

“What is it?”

“It was my turn to check the supplies today and I've discovered that there are some things missing.”

The Foreman's eyebrows shot up. “You don't say. What were they?”

“Wires, a motherboard and some plates of metal.”

He frowned trying to think of what could be built with them that would also require the use of a computer. “Did you check everything?”

“Twice. That's all that's missing.”

“Hmm. All right, good work. I'll talk with the Sellbot Foreman about acquiring replacement material. You get back to work.”

“Yes, sir,” the Skelecog replied and head off.

The Foreman heaved a sigh as he want back to trying to hack the encryption.

 

* * *

Mayor Flippy frowned down at the too-long-for-comfort list of Toons that had shown up with the a days worth of their memories missing. Undoubtedly, this was the work of the Cogs. More specifically, this was the work of Wilson Cheese.

First the report of Hybrids, then Cogs showing up en masse in Lawbot HQ and now this. Just what was going on? If Hybrids were indeed being created, none of them had showed up yet. But he was inclined to believe that they were. In which case the question was; what were they to do? Bossbot HQ had still yet to be found and even if they knew where it was, Hybrids were supposed to be immune to Gags.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead with one hand. They needed a plan. And fast.

 

* * *

Antoinette O'Toole slowly opened her eyes. The last thing she remembered was the Chief Justice's gavel descending on her. The yellow Toon groaned and rubbed her head; she could still feel the blow. After shaking her head and blinking to clear her vision, she sat on her knees and glanced around at her surroundings. She was in a prison cell. And her Gags and Shticker book had been confiscated. The Toon let out a frustrated sigh. This was embarrassing. She would have to wait for rescue.

Antoinette got up from the floor and sulked on the small bed provided. A few minutes later, she heard the sound of heavy, leather-padded feet approaching and wondered briefly what kind of Lawbot it was before a Two-Face strolled into view. He stopped and looked into the cage. “Oh, you're awake are you?”

“ _No._ ” Not Sellbots. Not _Sellbots_! “ _What. . . ?_ ”

The Two-Face sneered. “Oh you're well known to us, Miss O'Toole. The Chief Justice turned you over to the Vice President. He thought you'd prefer a night in our cells before you were turned over to the Bossbot Master.”

“NO!” Antoinette shrieked launching herself at the cage doors. “Let me out!”

He jumped back, startled. “N-now calm down, Miss O'Toole, you'll hurt yourself if you keep that up”

The yellow Toon pounded on the bars with her bare fists. “LET ME OUT!!”

 

* * *

“She's going nuts in there and won't calm down despite our best efforts. At this rate, she's going to do herself an injury.”

Second-in-Command, Mr Hollywood 717-3 sighed down the phone. “All right, I'll see what I can do.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” the Sellbot Jailer replied, relieved.

He hung up and headed down to the Prison Block. The Second-in-Command could hear her screaming from outside. He grimaced and entered. Antoinette O'Toole was still pounding the bars, a somewhat hysterical edge to her voice. “Whoa, you weren't kidding when you said she was going nuts.”

“We've tried talking her down, 717-3 but all we've done is get her more riled.”

Both Sellbots glanced into the cage at the yellow Toon that had now frozen in shock.

“ _Wh-what did you say_?” She asked in a hushed whisper.

The Second-in-Command frowned. “What did who say?”

“You're name? What's your name?”

“717-3. What's it to you?”

She blinked several times as tears brimmed in her eyes. “What do you mean, what's it to me? Don't tell me you've forgotten!”

“Forgotten what?”

“You know what I'm talking about!”

“No, I do not.”

“You're a liar! You always have been! You told me you loved me, then I never saw you again.”

“I did _what_!?”

“You heard me!”

“That's impossible!”

“Why?”

“Because I think I would remember.”

“But. . . it's true.”

“I think _you're_ the one lying here, Toon.”

“I am not!” Annie struggled to keep the tears from spilling from her eyes. “What happened to you, Three?”

“You have no right to call me that!” The Second-in-Command snapped. “Only close friends or family have that privilege. And you're no friend of mine.”

“Y-you really _don't_ remember do you?” She asked as the tears streamed down her face.

717-3 simply snorted and turned back to the Sellbot Jailer. “I believe you'll get no trouble from her now.”

The Two-Face peered into the cell at the yellow Toon who had fallen to her knees and was weeping softly in her hands as the Second-in-Command headed back to his office.

 

* * *

Senior Vice President Elmo Hollywood looked up from his paperwork at a knock on the door. 717-3 had not phoned through beforehand, which suggested an unofficial visit. “Come in?” He was somewhat surprised when the aforementioned Sellbot poked his head inside.

“Um, sir? Can-Can I have a word?”

“Sure, come on in, Three.”

The Mr Hollywood entered and shuffled over to the Cog Boss' desk.

“What is it?” the VP asked, frowning in concern.

“That Toon, Miss O'Toole.”

“The one that hates Sellbots. What about her?”

“She told me. . . I. . . loved her once. But I don't remember.”

“. . . Oh. . .”

“That Cold Caller, who fell in love with a Toon and had all memories of the incident removed from his hard drive. That was me, wasn't it?”

The Vice President sighed. “I'm sorry you had to find out like this. I'm sorry you had to find out at all.”

717-3 stared around the office, speechless and shaken by the revelation. After all this time of thinking he had been a good, loyal, Cog. . . He felt someone touch him lightly on the shoulder and looked up to see the VP leaning over him, his supports disengaged.

“Wanna hug?” he asked softly.

Three looked hesitant. “Well. . . I don't know. . .”

Elmo smiled and pulled him into a hug.

The Mr Hollywood buried his face into the Cog Boss' tartan suit as he felt oily tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

Why him?

 

* * *

“What brings you here, Jacques?” Chief Executive Officer Roscoe Cheese asked looking confused.

The Chief Financial Officer, Jacques Baron sighed. “We don't hang out much.”

“Well my father hasn't given me much time to myself of late, so that's no fault of yours.”

“Are you free now?”

“Yes, I was just going out to play some golf.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Roscoe beamed. “Not at all.”

* * *

“Jacques? Jacques? Jaaaacques?”

The CFO looked up sharply when someone poked him in the shoulder. “Huh, what?”

“It's your turn.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I was miles away.”

The CEO looked worried. “Is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing. Don't worry about it.”

“Um. Okay. If you're sure.”

He sighed. “What's the time?”

Roscoe pulled out his pocket watch and looked at it. “Uh oh. Break time's over. I have to get back to work.”

“Oh. I see. I guess I should head back, too then.”

“Okay, see ya. Thanks for stopping by.”

Without warning the Cashbot Boss pulled the young Cog into a tight hug. Roscoe returned it, delighted yet confused. “Oh, okay! I didn't know you were into hugs though, Jacques.”

The CFO pulled away and yanked the Bossbot's hat down over his eyes. “I won't make a habit of it.”

“Aww but hugs make you feel better,” he replied adjusting his hat.

“Oh pfft, kid. You get that from Elmo.”

“But he's right.”

“Sure, sure. I'll see you um. . . later.”

“See ya!” Roscoe replied and waved as Jacques trundled off home.

 

* * *

Cashbot Second-in-Command, Robber Baron 284-9 knocked on the door to the Chief Financial Officer's office and waited to be permitted entry.

“Come in,” came the voice of the CFO.

He pushed open the door and entered. “You summoned me, sir?”

“Yes, I did. I thought you could do with some help, so I've decided to hire you an assistant.”

“Oh I see. I've never found the workload to be too much to handle though, sir.”

“Hmm. Well why don't you give it a shot, anyway?” He held out a piece of paper for the Cashbot to take.

“Yes, sir.” He took the slip and headed out of the office.

**BOOM!**

284-9 was thrown forward from the shock. He clambered out from under the debris which had once been a fine pair of oak doors and looked back at the Chief Financial Officer to make sure he was all right. Instead his eyes beheld a tower of flames.

“Ch. . . Chief?”

 


	7. Chapter 6: Shockwaves

Second-in-Command Robber Baron 284-9 stared into the wreckage of the Chief Financial Officer's office, at the remains of the Cog Boss himself. He simply stared, mouth slightly agape, oblivious of the oily tears trickling down his face. Nine barely registered the arrival of a small group of Cashbots that had been in the vicinity and had heard the explosion. They too gazed in disbelief at the flames that now engulfed the Cashbot Boss.

“Wh-what happened?” a Loan Shark blurted out.

“He just. . . exploded,” the Second-in-Command replied numbly.

“What do we do?” a Short Change whimpered.

Nine closed his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh, as if expelling the grief from his body. “First. I inform the other Seconds. Second. I'll get the Tech Team up here to investigate, see if they can figure out what happened and why. Third,” he faltered.

“Third?” asked a Bean Counter.

“In the absence if the CFO, I assume authority of Cashbot HQ, but I was only ever intended as a temp. I don't have sufficient training to take over completely.”

The group of Cashbots exchanged worried looks.

“I have no choice then, but to authorise the awakening of the Master.”

 

* * *

Chief Executive Officer Roscoe Cheese's shoulders shook as sobs wracked his body. He wept into his hands as his father tried to soothe his anguish.

Ursula Cheese looked up at him and scowled. “What are you whimpering about? You didn't even know him that well.”

“He was s-still my f-friend.”

“And crying about it won't bring him back, so why bother?”

“Ursula!” Big Cheese scolded, glaring down at her. “Leave him alone.”

“No! This display of waterworks is pointless and stupid.”

“Why are you being so mean?” Roscoe whimpered.

“You're the CEO, brother. The Boss of the Cogs. You should lead by example. So suck it up and do something useful.”

“Ursula! The CFO is _dead_. Have some sympathy.”

“Well _I_ didn't know him either, so why should _I_ care?”

“That does not mean you shouldn't show some respect!”

“Fine, but I don't have to show Roscoe any for being a crybaby!”

“Ursula-!”

“No, Pa. Sh-she's right. I. . . I'm going to go check in with Nine and then I'll go and see Monty and Elmo. They'll have taken it harder than I."

The Master blinked, surprised at this sudden display of maturity then glanced at Ursula and frowned. “You can manage by yourself, my son? I want a word with Ursula.”

 

* * *

Roscoe Cheese glanced around the corridors of Cashbot Headquarters as he made his way down to Maintenance and Repair. A few dejected Cashbots dragged themselves from place to place as they made some attempt to keep on schedule but it was clear to the young Cog that their metaphorical hearts were just not in it. He sighed as he trundled by and headed into the main section of M+R.

Two Robber Barons were standing before the wreckage of Jacques, one slightly back from the other, and Roscoe froze in his tracks at the sight of it, a jolt of anguish running through his metaphorical heart. He took a moment to regain his composure before quietly approaching.

“ _Nine_?” he whispered.

The Second-in-Command nearly jumped out of his suit at the sound of his voice and whipped around. “ _Chief. When did you get here_?”

“ _Oh, just now_.” He glanced over at the other Robber Baron who had not seemed to notice him. “ _Who's that_?”

“ _The Master_.”

The CEO's eyes widened. “ _You mean, that's_. . .”

Nine nodded. “ _The CFO's father._ ”

“ _Aww no. If I'd known you'd awakened him, I woulda bought Pa along so he could say hi_.”

“He wouldn't have come.”

They both jumped.

“M-Master, we didn't know you were-”

“I'm old not malfunctioning,” he replied somewhat bitterly.

“Why would Pa not have come? I thought you used to be friends.”

“Used to being the key term here. Marvin and Will fell out over your father's treatment of Elmo. Even after it came to light what had happened to three to the Vice President's predecessors, Will still refused to apologise. Jeremiah and I sided with Marvin. None of us want anything to do with him.”

Roscoe scratched his head and exchanged confused looks with 284-9. “I still don't understand what happened.”

“It's not my story to tell,” Jasper replied with an air of finality.

The young Cog sighed in defeat, deciding it would be best not to pursue the matter.

“Foreman. The design of his engine is different.”

“All the Cog Bosses have been upgraded with an electric engine.”

“You were able to find a design that was efficient?”

“Indeed. Courtesy of Ol' Cheesy himself no less.”

The Cashbot Master snorted at the mention of his name.

Roscoe leaned in close to the Second-in-Command. “ _He doesn't seem very cut up about Jacques. . ._ ”

He sighed. “ _I. . . didn't have the heart to tell him the whole story. He thinks Ja-uh, the CFO is going to be rebuilt and his memories uploaded into the replacement._ ”

The Cashbot Master whipped around. “What are you saying?!”

Nine cringed. “Oh you heard that. . .”

“Explain!”

“Um. Well. You see, Mr Jacques' father sir-”

“Mr Baron.”

“Mr Baron-”

“Master, the CFO's memory backup was destroyed prior to his death. By who, we know not.”

Jasper Baron looked like he'd had a large, heavy object fall on him from a great height. “Y-. . . you mean. . . ?”

The two Cogs nodded and Nine answered. “I'm afraid so.”

He managed to remain standing for a few seconds before crumpling like a puppet that had had its strings cut.

“Aww, come here.” Roscoe rolled forward and scooped him up into a hug. “It's. . .” he stopped himself from saying “all right”.

The Cashbot Master said nothing, merely returning the hug and burying his face into the CEO's golfing vest.

 

* * *

Ursula Cheese perched on the end of her father's desk, arms folded, her face set into an annoyed scowl. The Hybrid was only half listening to Wilson's lecture.

“Are you listening to me!?”

She pulled her attention away from one corner of his office to return his angry look.

“Not really.”

“Ursula, this is a serious matter! What's got into you?”

“I thought you said I was part of your attack force, so unless this has some effect on that future, why should I concern myself with it?”

His palm met his face. “Ursula!”

She huffed in response and went back to staring at the corner.

“Ursula,” he tried again, softly this time. “Roscoe has just lost a friend. And the Cashbots, they've lost a leader. Try and put yourself in their shoes. How would you feel?”

“But I'm not them.”

“What if you were?”

“But I'm not them!”

He sighed. “All right, then. What if that was me?”

She whipped around suddenly, so he could not see her face.

“There, see?” He patted her on the back. “You understand now?”

Ursula nodded but said nothing.

He smiled and pulled her into a hug.

The red bear stiffened for a few seconds before relaxing and returning the hug. “Father?”

“Hm?”

“With the destruction of the CFO, won't the Cashbots have revived their Master?”

He froze. That was right. Jasper Baron, and possibly Marvin Hollywood and Jeremiah Bigwig would have been reawakened for the situation.

“And wasn't he a friend of yours?”

Wilson Cheese pulled away suddenly, a somewhat distraught expression on his face. He could not face them again.

Ursula blinked. “Father?”

He pulled out the remote from his top drawer and disappeared into his laboratory, the door sliding closed behind him.

The Hybrid blinked, staring at the bookcase in confusion. What was that about?

 

* * *

The Chief Executive Officer rolled up to the door of Chief Justice Lamont Bigwig's chambers and knocked. A brief pause then a weary reply. “Who is it?”

“It's Roscoe.”

A sigh. “Come in.”

Roscoe pushed the door open and entered. He took in the sight of the dejected Lawbot Boss sprawled over his desk. “Aww, Monty.” The Bossbot trundled over to his desk and gave him a sort-of-hug.

Lamont shrugged him off. “Get off me.” He glowered at the young Boss. “What do you want anyway?”

Roscoe blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You came all this way for something. What is it?”

“To see you.”

“For what reason?”

“I don't understand. Jacques' just died, you're upset. Why else would I be coming here?”

He attempted another sort of hug. Again, Lamont shrugged him off.

“Stop that.”

“But hugs make you feel better.”

He snorted. “Perhaps that works for you. But not me.”

“Then what will?”

“Nothing! Just leave me alone!”

Roscoe sighed. “Um. Well. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“Nothing I'd care to discuss with _you_.”

“But why?”

“You're still a stranger to me, Roscoe.”

The young Cog was stung by that one. “Oh. . . I see.”

“I've already asked you to leave. Don't make me repeat myself.”

“O-okay.” He turned and left without another word. The young Cog hovered outside Lamont's door. The elder Cog was obviously upset by the event. He had not yet visited Elmo, but the Sellbot would be in no condition to help. Lamont was not likely to open up to his Second-in-Command either. Roscoe Cheese scratched his head. He himself had turned to his father for comfort. Lamont had no one. Unless. . .

 

* * *

Lamont Bigwig hauled himself off his desk at the ringing of his phone. He picked it up. “What is it, Two?”

“Uh, Chief. The Foreman's just informed me that he has been authorised to reawaken your father-.”

“On who's authority!?”

“The CEO's.”

“Of all the-!” 159-2 blinked and stared at the reciever when he heard it go dead. He put the phone back on the hook and wondered if he should phone down to Maintenance and Repair to the inform the Foreman that reawakening the Master was probably not such a good idea.

 

* * *

The Chief Justice arrived in Maintenance and Repair to see Roscoe having his audio receptor bent by a revived Jeremiah Bigwig. He could not help but smirk at the sight. Served him right to go behind his back on the matter.

The Bossbot noticed his presence and turned a pleading look on him. Jeremiah followed his gaze. “Lamont! It's about time you got here.”

_Uh oh._

“What's the meaning of this?”

“Monty, he wouldn't let me get a word in edgeways to explain.”

“His _name_ is _Lamont_. Why you tolerate this ridiculous nickname is beyond me.”

“Father. Enough,” the Lawbot sighed. “A lot has happened in your absence. Allow _me_ to explain then, if you will not allow Roscoe.”

Jeremiah scowled over his half-moon specs. “This had  _better_ be good, Lamont.”

 

* * *

The young Cog Boss was all too glad to escape from Lamont's scary father, leaving the Lawbot to see to the matter of bringing Jeremiah up to date. He headed over to Selbot Headquarters through the underground tunnels and arrived at Senior Vice President Elmo Hollywood's office doors. Silence from within. He knocked. No reply. He knocked again. Still no reply. Roscoe pushed open the door and peeked inside but it was empty. The young Cog frowned and scratched his head in confusion dislodging his golf hat into his eyes. He wondered where else Elmo would be as he adjusted his hat. _Where would he be_ , the Bossbot thought to himself, _if he was too upset to drag himself to his office_? A moment later the answer came to him.

 

* * *

Roscoe trundled up to the doors of the VP's bedroom. He could hear sobbing coming from within. The young Cog Boss sighed and knocked; it was as he had feared. There was no answer. He knocked again but Elmo was too distraught to permit him entry. The Bossbot opened the door and entered.

A metal shelf or table descended from the ceiling in one corner of their rooms for the Cog Bosses to sprawl on after they had shutdown for the night. It was upon this that the Vice President was leaning, sobbing into his now ruined sleeves. He looked up when Roscoe entered.

“Why is he gone?”

“I. . . I don't know.”

“Who did it?”

“I don't know that either.”

The Sellbot went back to whimpering into his arms.

He hovered at the door, unsure if he would face the same rejection he had received from the CJ until he reminded himself that Elmo was not like that. Roscoe touched him lightly on the shoulder. “Elmo?”

He looked up with tear-filled eyes.

“Do you want a hug?”

The VP sniffed, nodded, pushed a button on the wall to move his bed out of the way then pulled Roscoe into a tight hug, burying his face into the Bossbot's shoulder.

He returned it, equally tightly and sighed. _Why had this happened?_

 


	8. Chapter 7: Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Been working on this on and mostly off for the past two years and boy howdy is it good to finally be done with it!**

 

_Antoinette O'Toole glanced forlornly up at the Mingler as she dragged her down a corridor lined with cages. “Where are you taking me?”_

“ _You'll see.”_

_The Sellbot pushed aside the red curtain that covered the entrance to the Main Experiment Area. Annie merely blinked as she took in the Hybrid Manufacturer and the Memory Eraser Machine which was off to one side._

_Mingler 211-4 pulled her over to Wilson Cheese. His attention was absorbed by the console read out so she had to tap him on the shoulder, after clearing her throat had failed to get his attention._

“ _Hm? Ah yes, Mingler 211-4 is it?”_

_She nodded. “My chosen Toon, sir,” she added, pulling Antoinette forward by her elbow._

_The Bossbot Master tilted her chin up. The yellow Toon gazed back with a dejected expression. “She seems a lot more. . . dispirited than usual.”_

_211-4 shrugged. “Nothing to do with me.”_

“ _Hmm. Well. No matter.” He nodded to a Big Cheese who took Antoinette by her other elbow and pushed into her a capsule as 211-4 entered the other._

_A few moments later she stumbled out in a daze and was promptly hauled over to the Memory Eraser Machine._

_The middle capsule opened and a yellow dog emerged blinking as the light assaulted her eyes. Instead of Annie's yellow, her hair was a peachy pink. 211-4 emitted what sounded like a squeal of delight and scooped her daughter up into a hug. The Hybrid eagerly returned it, wagging her tail. She watched over her Cog mother's shoulder as her Toon mother was pulled away, a vacant expression on her face._

 

* * *

Antoinette O'Toole's eyes fluttered open. Immediately tears began to well up in them. She sniffed and held them back.

It was about ten minutes later when she heard the door to her ward opening. Mayor Flippy raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you're awake.”

She simply nodded in reply.

He grimaced. “But obviously not better.” He took a seat by her bed and patted her hand. “But don't you worry, you'll be as right as rain by the end of the day.”

Annie sniffed and stared at her hands.

“I don't suppose you remember what happened? I mean, if you're up for talking that is.”

"Well. *sniff* I remember the Chief Justice knocked me out before I could escape. *sniff* I regained consciousness in a cell in Sellbot. *sniff* . . . And then. . . Nothing. *sniff* I don't recall what happened next. There's just a big black hole in my memory between then and waking up here."

Flippy sighed. “That's pretty much the same story everyone else has been saying.”

“What do you think is going on?”

“I can't say for sure but I have a gut feeling Ol' Cheesy's behind it.”

 

* * *

Antoinette rung her hands before the entrance to Gyro Gearloose's workshop. She'd been released from hospital an hour earlier. Annie took a deep breath, gathered up her courage and approached Gyro who was absorbed in his work.

“Gyro?”

He continued work on the helicopter-like machine, oblivious.

The yellow Toon swallowed, starting to lose her nerve. “Um. Gyro?” She knocked on the helicopter's fuselage.

“Huh? Who's there?” Gyro looked around before spotting her. “Oh, Antoinette. What brings you here?”

“I, uh, wanted to ask you something.”

He put his tools to one side, dusted his clothes down and gave her his full attention. “What's this about? Would you like some tea?”

“Oh. No. I don't want to trouble you.”

“It's no trouble,” he replied, smiling.

“Well. Uh. All right. Milk, please. And two sugars.”

“Amanda?” he called into the house.

“Yes, dear?” came the reply.

“A cup of tea, please. Milk and two sugars.”

“Coming right up!”

“Now then, what did you want to ask me?”

“About, um.” She felt her cheeks beginning to turn red. “Cogs. And uh. Love.”

The rooster raised an eyebrow. “What about them?”

“Well how does it work?”

“Is this about Roxy McSocks and 118-7?”

“Uh. Yes. I was curious, is all. Is that wrong?”

“I. . . guess not. I added on a hidden program to the Original Cogs that would allow them to fall in love with a Toon.”

“Why did you?”

He shrugged. “Sentimentality, I guess. The program is dormant by default but it can activate when the Cog gets to know a, for lack of a better word, compatible Toon well enough. It's tagged onto their compassion program, so they can't get rid of it permanently. In 118-7's case what was deleted was the decoy thus deactivating the program.”

Amanda Gearloose, a tan feathered, brown haired hen Toon in a short sleeved, baby blue dress appeared holding a cup of tea. “Here you are, dear.”

Antoinette smiled and thanked her before she left. “How did it get reactivated?”

Gyro smiled. “He must have kissed her.”

She blinked. “So. The program is reactivated with a kiss?”

“You got it.”

“What if a Cog fell in love with a Toon, had the program deactivated and his memories of her deleted? Could he still love her again?”

“Yep.”

“Even years later?”

“Even then. Does that help?”

“I. Um. Yes. Thank you. Thanks a lot.”

“Anytime.” He returned to working on the helicopter as she hurried off, thinking nothing of her visit.

 

* * *

Techno Gearloose perked up when the bell went marking the end of school. He had auburn coloured hair, tan feathers and wore a white shirt under a dark blue waistcoat, blue jeans, glasses and a black top hat with a purple band. He jammed his books into his bag as he stood up, slung one strap over his shoulder and hurried out of the classroom.

“Teeeech!” He spotted his mother, Amanda standing by the school gate waving at him. Waiting with her was his cousin, Newton Gearloose, a red haired, white feathered chicken in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, green sleeveless pullover and blue jeans.

“Mom, it's Tech _no_ ,” he sighed when he'd reached her.

“Are you excited about the launch?”

He brightened up immediately. “You bet! I hope my programming was good enough. I'll sure feel bad if it crashes because of me.”

“Uncle Gyro won't blame you. Loads of his inventions backfire on him anyway.”

Techno smiled. “Yeah, that's true I guess.”

“Hey, Gearloose!”

Techno turned in time to catch an object the blue dog had thrown. It was a Cog gear.

“Thought your Dad might want that back.”

He glared at the object in his hand and then at the Toon before silently stuffing it into his bag.

Newton glowered at him too. “Stupid Mutley. It wasn't Uncle Gyro's fault the Cogs went bad.”

“Ignore him, boys,” Amanda sighed. “He's just trying to pick a fight.”

“I know.”

“Come on. Gyro's waiting.” She pulled out a black hole, threw it on the ground and they all jumped in.

 

* * *

The three emerged from the black hole right outside Gyro Gearloose's work shop.

“We're all here,” Amanda announced.

Gyro looked up from his work and smiled. “Welcome back.”

“Is it ready to go?” Techno asked.

“Almost. I'm just uploading the flight program onto the hard drive.”

“Oh boy. I can't wait!” Newton was nearly jigging on the spot from excitement.

The hen Toon patted his head, amused. “Calm down, dear.”

“I'll try.”

Techno chuckled.

“I'll go put the kettle on. The tea should be ready by the time it's up and flying. Usual for everyone?”

A chorus of “Yes please,” answered her.

Amanda disappeared into the house.

“You two go on ahead into my workshop and get everything set up. I'll follow in a minute.”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

 

* * *

As Techno switched on the computer and second monitor in his father's workshop and set about plugging in the keyboard and joysticks for controlling the Spybot and its camera, his cousin was clearing the workspace around it and pulling chairs over to it.

Gyro appeared a few minutes later. “All ready on my end.”

“We're ready here, too, Uncle,” Newton replied over his shoulder as he took a seat.

“Great, let's begin.” He pushed the keyboard over to Techno as he sat down. “You can start her up.”

The young Toon's fingers flew over the keys as he input the start up sequence. “All systems are green. I'll start up the vid-feed now.” There was a pause and then the second monitor blazed into colour with a view of their garden. “And we're good to go.”

“Swivel the camera around for me, Newton. Let's make doubly sure that works before it's halfway over Toontown.”

Newton grasped the second joystick and swivelled it around. The view on the monitor changed in accordance with his movements. “Everything seems to be working, Uncle. Are we ready to fly?”

“We sure are.”

Techno crossed his fingers as Gyro pulled back on the first joystick. For a moment nothing happened, then the Spybot began to ascend.

“So far so good,” Newton remarked.

The elder Gearloose steered the Spybot forward. “You can breathe now, son,” Gyro chuckled. “Everything looks fine.”

Techno exhaled, not even aware he'd been holding his breath.

“The Spybot is responding nicely. You really did a good job on the flight program.”

“Oh you say that now, but why do I have a feeling it's going to fail at any moment?”

“If it does, we'll just try again.”

Newton consulted the map of Acorn Acres. “Looks like we're getting close to your theorised location of the Headquarters, Uncle.” He swivelled the camera around. “I'm not seeing anything, though.”

“It may be still be shielded from view, but once we get right on top of it-”

“You should be able to see it? I'm afraid not.”

Gyro gaped at the figure that had appeared on the monitor. “Y-you?!”

Techno and Newton frown and exchanged looks. “Who is that, Dad?”

“Wilson Cheese!” he spat out the name as if it was foul to the taste.

“Long time no see, Gyro Gearloose. Do you remember the last time we met?”

The rooster glared at the Bossbot through the monitor. He remembered. All too well.

 

* * *

Knock, knock.

_Gyro Gearloose looked up from the gadget he was fixing and frowned at the door. His workshop was closed and he did not accept out of hours visits, not even for those who were just coming to pick up a fixed item lest they try and wrangle another job out of him. He stood up and opened the door. Before he could fully register his visitor's identity, his throat was seized by a powerful grasp. Gyro squawked and gazed into the eyes of Wilson B. Cheese._

_It had been a few months since the Cogs had fled into the wilderness. How was he still conscious? The Corruption should have torn his programming apart by now leaving him a non-functioning shell._

_Wilson Cheese grinned down at him. “Gyro Gearloose. Long time no see. Mind if I come in?” He paused. “No? Don't mind if I do.”_

_The Cog sauntered into Gyro's workshop closing the door behind him. The rooster Toon struggled in his grasp but was vastly outmatched in strength._

“ _I suppose you're wondering why I'm here.” He glanced around. “I want your technology, Gyro. I want to see the way your mind works. But first,” Big Cheese raised Gyro to eye level. “I must deal with you.”_

_The rooster stared back unperturbed._

“ _Oh I know what you're thinking. I can't kill you; you're a Toon. Well I believe I may have found a way and you, my friend, shall be my first test subject.”_

_Gyro's eyes widened as the Bossbot pulled out a screwdriver from his breast pocket and jerked, emitting a strangled yelp when Big Cheese jammed it into his arm._

_The Cog grinned and held the bloodied screwdriver aloft. “Success. It would seem you Toons can be harmed if attacked in a certain manner; you weren't able to laugh this one off, Gyro.”_

_Were the rooster not white already, he would've paled considerably._

“ _Now then.” Big Cheese placed his screwdriver on the workbench as he pulled Gyro over to the far wall, picking up the chair he had been sitting in beforehand. The Cog sat him down so that he was facing the wall. “You can just sit here while I have a look around.” He pulled back the sleeve of Gyro's shirt, squeezed his arm to stain his hand with the Toon's blood and then smeared it upon the wall._

_The rooster trembled in his seat, unable to take his eyes off the sight of his own blood. Next thing he was aware of was someone pulling his gaze away from the now dry stain on the wall. He gazed once more into the eyes of Wilson Cheese who smirked back._

“ _I was going to take my leave but then I remembered that I need to conduct some experiments, Gyro. I believe you'll make a fine test subject.” The Cog clubbed him over the head and his vision went black._

 

* * *

_Amanda Gearloose rushed into the hospital. “Where is he? Where's Gyro?”_

_The receptionist gave her the directions to the ward Gyro had been put in and hurried to it._

_He was slouched in bed, his gaze fixed upon the wall._

“ _Gyro. . . ?”_

_No response._

_She ventured slowly into the room. “Sweetie?”_

_Still nothing._

_Amanda was now standing at his bedside. She touched his hand. “Gyro. Honey. Look at me.”_

_He did so. And the look in his eyes could be best described as soul destroying._

 

* * *

“Last I saw you, Gyro, you were. . . how shall I put it. A bit under the weather? How did you recover?”

“I had help,” he replied simply.

He smirked. “I see.”

“Dad, what's he talking about?”

Wilson Cheese turned his attention on Techno. “You don't remember? It was about eight years ago now. You would have been about eight or nine.”

“I didn't want him to see me like that. Nor did Amanda.”

“See you like what? What happened?”

“Do you want to tell him or shall I?”

Gyro glared at the Bossbot. “He experimented on me.”

Both Techno and Newton's beaks fell open. “What for?!” Newton asked.

“I needed to find a way to hurt a Toon. And I succeeded. All the current attacks my Cogs can perform were produced from the results of those experiments.”

“Who are you talking to- oh. It's you.”

“Why, Amanda Gearloose,” the Bossbot Master greeted her with exaggerated enthusiasm. “I haven't seen you in such a long time. How _are_ you?”

“As if you care. What's this about anyway?”

“Probably just wants to stir up old memories,” Gyro replied bitterly.

“Well there is that but more importantly, I've been hacking into your Spybot as we speak.”

“No way!” Techno protested. “I installed firewalls into the flight program. There's no way you could hack them.”

“You underestimate me, boy,” he growled. “Or rather, you overestimate yourself.”

The tan Toon glanced nervously at the computer screen and stared in horror as the readout informed him that his firewalls were under attack and were beginning to break down. “Oh no you don't! We're not going down without a fight!”

“You go, Tech!” Newton shouted in encouragement.

Sweat broke out on the young Toon's brow as he stared at the screen in deep concentration, fingers flying over the keyboard so fast that they were nearly a blur. “It's no good! He's breaking them down faster than I can put them up! We're going to lose it!”

“Let me take over.”

Techno quickly shoved the keyboard over to his father and glued his eyes to the screen, watching in anticipation.

“You can do it, Uncle!” He and his cousin jumped in surprise when a big, red, obnoxious “Denied!” message appeared across the screen. “We. . . we lost?”

“A commendable attempt on both your parts, but you stepped in too late, Gyro.”

The rooster glared daggers at him.

“In the time it'll take to build a new one, or even repair the old one, we'll have taken measures to avoid discovery in the future, so if I were you, I wouldn't even bother.”

“You win this one, Cheesy,” Newton growled, the Bossbot's victorious expression souring at the use of his hated nickname. “But we'll find your Headquarters. Somehow.”

But the old Cog just smirked. “You're welcome to try. And with that, I bid you farewell.”

Before anyone could think of a retort, the vid-feed cut out, the monitor becoming filled with static.

Techno stared at the computer screen in dismay. “Signal lost” had now replaced “Denied.” “Sorry, Dad.”

Amanda patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. “It's not your fault, sweetie. You did the best you could.”

“But. . . we lost our one opportunity to find Bossbot Headquarters. What are we going to do now?”

“I'll think of something,” Gyro replied, although he neither looked nor sounded particularly confidant.

 


	9. Chapter 8: The Investigation Begins

Chief Justice, Lamont Bigwig twiddled his thumbs as he watched his father, the Lawbot Master, Jeremiah Bigwig pace up and down.

“So with absolutely no warning, the Chief Financial Officer was destroyed.”

“That's correct.”

“This is a Cashbot matter, why was I revived?”

Lamont sighed before answering. “Roscoe, that is, the Chief Executive Officer has only recently come online. I believe he thought he was being helpful.”

“In what way?”

“Jacques was my friend. . .”

“I see.” He was silent for a moment. “Do we have any suspects?”

“The Toons of course. But regarding any Toons in particular, I haven't yet-”

“So you haven't yet started an investigation?”

“I. . . well. No.”

“Then we must commence one right away.”

“Er. . . Yes, Father.”

“You do not agree?”

“I do.”

“There must be no hesitation, or second guessing, Lamont. You must be certain at all times.”

The CJ dropped his gaze to his hands. “I know.”

“Then we shall begin the investigation at the scene of the crime. To Cashbot Headquarters.”

The Cog Boss simply sighed before heading off to the aforementioned Headquarters with Jeremiah seated on his treadguard.

 

* * *

Cashbot Second in Command, Robber Baron 284-9 rubbed the back of his neck wearily. He glanced at the mountain of paperwork he was half-heartedly tackling. The Cashbot Master, Jasper R Baron had taken over a spare room as his main office and he had just come back from helping him set up. The former CFO's room, besides being far too spacious, was still a crime scene and had been blocked off on the Master's orders, until the Chief Justice and Jeremiah Bigwig could take a look for themselves.

He realised he'd zoned out when he was brought out of his reverie by a knock on his office door. “Enter?”

Another Robber Baron, newly upgraded by the look of him, entered his office.

“412-2 reporting for duty, sir.”

284-9 stared at him. “What?”

“412-2 reporting for-”

“I heard you the first time. What duty?”

“On the orders of our late CFO, I'm to be your assistant, Nine. _Sir_.”

Nine glared at him suspiciously. “The last I was aware, he'd suggested I give it a shot, but ultimately left the decision in my hands.”

412-2 fished around in his pockets before pulling out a slip of paper and handing it to him.

The Second in Command's brows narrowed further.

“ _This a duty assignment. 412-2, you will take on the role of my Second in Command's assistant upon receipt of your upgrade.”_ And that was Jaques Baron's own handwriting as well as his signature at the end, no question about it. But the CFO had given _him_ an order slip. So why had he also issued _this_ one?

Nine returned his gaze to the other Cashbot, eyes still narrowed. “Seems legit. Very well 412-2. You may start immediately.” He gestured to the pile of paperwork on his desk. “By assisting me with this.”

412-2 saluted. “Yes sir!”

 

* * *

Mayor Flippy Doggenbottom scratched his chin and frowned at the report that had been filed by Roxy McSocks' older brother, Boxer.

He had earlier received a string of reports by field members of the Toon Resistance on the near absence of Cashbot activity. They had virtually disappeared off the streets, thus no Cashbot buildings or field offices and only a few of them could be found patrolling the Rail Yard. Even the Mints were nearly desolate of Cashbot life.

Something was clearly amiss, he'd concluded and sent Boxer in to investigate. The blue cat Toon had infiltrated the Headquarters as far as he dared but could find no sign of the CFO. It was as if the Cog Boss had simply vanished into thin air.

Whatever had happened to him, Flippy reasoned that it was the obvious cause for the Cashbots' collective withdrawal. He picked up the phone and dialled in a number.

“ _Hello_?”

“Hey, Roxy, it's Flippy. Is Sal there?”

“ _Oh sure, I'll just go and get her_.”

A moment of silence before Sal's voice came down the line. “ _Hey, Flippy. What do you need_?”

“I need you to get in touch with your father and ask him what's happened to the Cashbots.”

“ _Sure thing. He may be busy right now, though. I'll call back as soon as I know_.”

“Thank you, Sal.” Flippy hung up and massaged his forehead; things were starting to get really strange.

 

* * *

Chief Executive Officer, Roscoe Cheese trundled up to his desk, flopped on it and heaved a sigh. He eyed the mound of paperwork that was starting to build up and sighed again.

After several minutes of no movement later, he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in?”

The Bossbot Second in Command, 829-5 stepped in. “Ah, good, Chief. You're back.”

“Oh hey, Five. Need something?”

“Oh no, nothing. How was the Vice President?”

Roscoe gave him a pained look.

“I thought as much. And you?”

The CEO sighed and dropped his gaze to his desk. “Good? Not good? I don't know. I'm not happy but I'm still functioning. How about you?”

829-5 blinked, surprised. “I'm, uh.” He paused, scratching the side of his head as he contemplated his reply. “Worried.”

Roscoe nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”

A moment of silence elapsed before Five cleared his throat. “I should probably get back to work.”

“I seem to have left everything with you, Five. Sorry about that.”

“That's all right, Chief. Your father has been helping out.”

“Oh? Well good.”

“Should I tell him you're back?”

“Yes please, Five. And thank you.”

The Bossbot left and minutes later, there was another knock and the door swung open.

“Hey, Pa.”

Wilson B Cheese stood in the doorway a moment as he took in the CEO's dejected form. “How did it go?”

“It didn't. Elmo is still. . . very sad.”

“Grief is not so easily conquered, Roscoe.”

“I know,” he sighed, then lapsed into a moment of silence. “Pa?”

“Yes, child?”

“You told me once that Uncles James, Chase and Emmet died. How did you cope?”

Wilson closed his eyes in thought. “I found it helpful to. . . to focus on something to take my mind off the pain.”

“Like what?”

“My inventions.”

“So I should go and invent something?”

“Well. No. I like inventing. It's something I enjoy. Perhaps you could go out and play some golf?

Roscoe nodded. “Okay.” He hauled himself up off his desk and headed outside to the golfing field.

 

* * *

Roscoe Cheese sent a golfball flying and, shielding his eyes, watched it fall. He frowned. A few feet away from the ball's landing zone was a small, black object that looked like it had crash landed. He trundled over to it and disengaged his supports to peer at it closely. It was clearly not of Cog design and must therefore be of Toon construct. He poked it with his golf club to make sure it was inactive before carefully picking it up. It was small enough to fit nicely into his palm and appeared to be holding together well, so he took it inside.

 

* * *

The Bossbot Foreman glanced up, curiously, from the monitor of Bossbot Headquarters' supercomputer and was quite surprised to see the Chief Executive Officer rolling towards him.

“Chief. . . How can I help you?”

“I found this.”

He peered at it warily. “What is it?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

The Skelecog hefted it onto a nearby workstation and began scrutinising it more closely. “It appears to be some kind of Toon constructed, remote controlled, aerial spycam.”

“Do you think we could fix it up and give it it's own AI?”

The Foreman folded his arms and stared at it. “I suppose.”

The CEO clapped his hands. “Excellent. Are you busy?”

“Not pressingly. I can spare a few minutes.”

“Then you'll help me?”

He smiled up at the young Cog Boss. “Of course, Chief.”

 

* * *

Lamont and Jeremiah Bigwig waited patiently for the lift to ascend into the arrival area of Cashbot Headquarters. They had traversed the secret underground tunnels that connected all four of the Cog Headquarters which were only used by the Cog Bosses. A Robber Baron was waiting for them.

“Chief Justice, Master Bigwig. I'm the Cashbot Second Assistant, 412-2.”

They exchanged frowns; the Cashbot what?

“My Master is waiting for you. Please, follow me.”

 

* * *

412-2 headed off to rejoin 284-9, leaving Lamont twiddling his thumbs outside Jasper R Baron's office as he waited, trying not to eavesdrop.

Jeremiah regarded his old friend, calmly. “Jasper.”

Jasper said nothing, merely stared across his desk with a forlorn expression. Then he stood, rounded the table and pulled the old Lawbot into a hug.

He stiffened briefly, before patting the Cashbot on the back; he had never been one for open displays of affection.

Jasper stood back, holding him at arm's length by the shoulders. “It is good to see you again, my old friend.”

“Likewise, Jasper. It is unfortunate that this reunion was not due to better circumstances.”

The Cashbot Master looked away, pained.

“I'm here on official business. My son and I have started an investigation.”

He perked up at that. “Oh? Where is he?”

“He's waiting outside.”

Lamont drew himself out his musings at the sound of the door opening. The old Robber Baron smiled up him. “So you're Jeremiah's boy.” He held out a hand. “I'm Jasper.”

“Lamont,” he replied, carefully shaking his hand between thumb and forefinger.

He turned back to the smaller Lawbot. “I won't keep you, Jeremiah. The sooner you both get to the bottom of this, the sooner I can relax. I believe 284-9 was the last one to see him alive and the Tech team will have more information on what actually happened.”

“Thank you, Jasper.”

They shook hands. “Find out who did this, Jeremiah.”

“I will. You can count on that.”

The Cashbot gave his hand an affectionate squeeze before disappearing into his office.

“We'll start with 284-9 then, Lamont.”

The CJ nodded and waited for his father take a seat on his treadguard before moving out.

 

* * *

“That's probably the Chief Justice and the Lawbot Master,” 412-2 remarked on the knock on 284-9's office door.

The Second in Command heaved a sigh and stood up. “You can carry on with this, while I talk to them.”

Two casually saluted as Nine headed out.

He nodded to the Chief Justice. “Chief,” then looked to Jeremiah. “Master Bigwig.”

“Jasper has informed me that you were the last one to see the Chief Financial Officer alive.”

“That's correct.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Nine pinched the bridge of his nose as he recalled the scene he didn't particularly want to remember.

 

* * *

_Cashbot Second-in-Command, Robber Baron 284-9 knocked on the door to the Chief Financial Officer's office and waited to be permitted entry._

“ _Come in,” came the voice of the CFO._

_He pushed open the door and entered. “You summoned me, sir?”_

“ _Yes, I did. I thought you could do with some help, so I've decided to hire you an assistant.”_

“ _Oh I see. I've never found the workload to be too much to handle though, sir.”_

“ _Hmm. Well why don't you give it a shot, anyway?” He held out a piece of paper for the Cashbot to take._

“ _Yes, sir.” He took the slip and headed out of the office._

_**BOOM!** _

_284-9 was thrown forward from the shock. He clambered out from under the debris which had once been a fine pair of oak doors and looked back at the Chief Financial Officer to make sure he was all right. Instead his eyes beheld a tower of flames._

“ _Ch. . . Chief?”_

 

* * *

“Assistant? Is this referring to the Second Assistant that greeted us earlier?” Jeremiah asked.

“412-2? Yeah. He just started today after he gave me this.” He fished around in his pocket and presented the note to the two Lawbots. “That's the CFO's handwriting and signature, no doubts about it.”

“It is,” Lamont agreed.

“He must have already issued this order before his untimely demise,” the Bigwig remarked.

“Right. But then why give _me_ an order slip after issuing _that_ one.”

“Hmm. Odd.”

“If you want to talk to him, 412-2's inside,” he said, nodding towards to his office.

Jeremiah pondered for a moment. “No. No, that won't be necessary. It's a peculiarity to be sure, but I don't think 412-2 could unravel that.”

The Robber Baron nodded. “Is there anything else?”

“Was there any change in Jacques' behaviour before the explosion?” Lamont queried.

He thought long and hard before replying, “None that I'd noticed, no.”

“Then that concludes that. We'll proceed onto the Cashbot Tech team next, Lamont.”

“Good luck, Master Bigwig.”

The CJ winced as Jeremiah awarded the Robber Baron a withering look over his half moon spectacles. “ _ Luck, _ has no place in an investigation, 284-9.”

“Of course, sir, sorry, sir, excusemeIhavetogetbacktowork,” the Second in Command mumbled before hastily retreating into his office.

“ _Cashbots_ ,” Jeremiah sighed in exasperation.

Lamont just shook his head.

 

* * *

“Foreman, what do you have to report?” The Lawbot Master demanded.

The Cashbot Foreman handed him a preprepared folder. “Nothing suspicious was found in the routine checkup that was scheduled before the incident. But we found remnants of several explosive devices attached to key points on what was left of his engine. They could only have been installed sometime between.”

Jeremiah flipped to the corresponding diagram. “Where these Toon explosives?”

“Hard to say, considering there was so little left of them.”

“And was the CFO's backup destroyed prior to the checkup?”

“Afterwards, actually. It was our first clue that something was happening. Though we had no idea the CFO would be attacked in such a way.”

He nodded. “May I take these?”

“With the Master's blessing.”

“Excellent,” he tucked it away inside his jacket and turned to the Chief Justice. “Let us go to Sellbot Headquarters next.”

 

* * *

The CJ rolled up to the bedroom door of the Senior Vice President of Sales and paused. He gazed down at Jeremiah Bigwig who frowned back. “Yes, Lamont?”

“Father, go on ahead and question the Sellbot Tech team and Second in Command. I wish to speak to the Vice President alone.”

The Lawbot blinked. “As you wish.”

He waited until Jeremiah had left before knocking and entering.

Elmo Hollywood was sprawled out across the metal shelf that was his bed. He heaved a sigh and met the Lawbot Boss' gaze.

“I suppose, “Are you all right?” would be a stupid question to ask.”

He nodded. “I feel a little better, thanks to Roscoe.”

Lamont pursed his lips and dropped his gaze to the floor, recalling how he had spurned the young Cog's company.

“I'm going to miss him, though.”

“Yes. As will I.”

“I'm trying to think of what the new CFO will be like but. . . it doesn't seem to be helping much.”

The CJ rolled over and squeezed one of Elmo's hands. “Things will look up, I'm sure.”

He sighed. “I hope so.”

“At the very least, my father and I are looking into it.”

Elmo sat upright in surprise. “Ol' Scaremiah is back?”

Lamont cringed. “Please don't call him that.”

The Sellbot snorted. “Not to his face, no worries about  _ that _ .”

There was a knock at the door. “That will probably be him.”

“Come in.”

Jeremiah entered and nodded to the VP in greeting. “Elmo.”

“Hello again, Jer.”

He pulled a face. “It's Jeremiah if you please. I don't suppose you have anything that might assist us with our investigation?”

“We hung out-” Off Jeremiah's disapproving expression, he hastily corrected himself “Er, I mean. We spent time in each other's company on the morning _it_ happened and he seemed a little distracted then. But that's all I can say.”

“I see. Thank you.” He turned to Lamont. “The Sellbot Tech team and Second in Command also had little to say. I believe we should continue to Bossbot Headquarters.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Say hi to Roscoe for me. And thanks for stopping by, Monty.”

 

* * *

“Jaaaacques,” Roscoe Cheese whined. “ _Please_ stop snuffling through my paperwork.”

The spybot, now named Jacques, stopped what it was doing and floated up to the CEO's face to start nuzzling him affectionately.

“Jacques stop that. Just sit. Be a good boy.”

The spybot sat.

“Thank you.”

It jumped up at a knock on the door.

“No. _Sit_!”

Jacques sat.

“Stay. Good boy.” To the door, “Come in!”

The spybot began to move again when the doors opened revealing Lamont and Jeremiah Bigwig.

“Stay!” He commanded and Jacques stayed. Roscoe clasped his hands together and gazed at the two Lawbots cooly. “Hello, _Lamont_. Mr Bigwig.”

The CJ pursed his lips in response but made no reply.

Jeremiah spoke up. “We're here with questions regarding the CFO's destruction.”

“Obviously.”

“Can you tell us anything about the time leading up to the incident?”

“Yes, I believe I can.”

 

* * *

“ _What brings you here, Jacques?” Chief Executive Officer, Roscoe Cheese asked looking confused._

_The Chief Financial Officer, Jacques Baron sighed. “We don't hang out much.”_

“ _Well my father hasn't given me much time to myself of late, so that's no fault of yours.”_

“ _Are you free now?”_

“ _Yes, I was just going out to play some golf.”_

“ _Mind if I join you?”_

_Roscoe beamed. “Not at all.”_

* * *

“ _Jacques? Jacques? Jaaaacques?”_

_The CFO looked up sharply when someone poked him in the shoulder. “Huh, what?”_

“ _It's your turn.”_

“ _Oh. Right. Sorry. I was miles away.”_

_The CEO looked worried. “Is something wrong?”_

“ _No. Nothing. Don't worry about it.”_

“ _Um. Okay. If you're sure.”_

_He sighed. “What's the time?”_

_Roscoe pulled out his pocket watch and looked at it. “Uh oh. Break time's over. I have to get back to work.”_

“ _Oh. I see. I guess I should head back, too then.”_

“ _Okay, see ya. Thanks for stopping by.”_

_Without warning the Cashbot Boss pulled the young Cog into a tight hug. Roscoe returned it, delighted yet confused. “Oh, okay! I didn't know you were into hugs though, Jacques.”_

_The CFO pulled away and yanked the Bossbot's hat down over his eyes. “I won't make a habit of it.”_

“ _Aww but hugs make you feel better,” he replied adjusting his hat._

“ _Oh pfft, kid. You get that from Elmo.”_

“ _But he's right.”_

“ _Sure, sure. I'll see you um. . . later.”_

“ _See ya!” Roscoe replied and waved as Jacques trundled off home._

 

* * *

The two Lawbots frowned and rubbed their chins in thought.

“This is-” Jeremiah began.

“Actually very helpful,” Lamont cut in. “Thank you, Roscoe.”

Roscoe beamed, looking very pleased with himself.

“The VP mentioned the CFO was distracted,” Jeremiah commented. “This suggests that he actually _knew_.”

The CEO nodded. “That's what I thought. But then why would he not tell anyone?”

“A curiosity indeed,” the CJ agreed. “Perhaps he was trying to protect someone?”

Roscoe shrugged. “Who knows? Is that all?”

“I do have one last question,” said Jeremiah, eyeing the spybot over his half moon specs. “What is _that_?”

 

* * *

“Yes, actually,” said the Bossbot Foreman. “I noticed there were three instances of unscheduled and thus unauthorised activity recorded in the supercomputer's activity log. They're encrypted, so I can't tell you when they were entered, nor what they are logs of. However, one of my junior team reported materials missing.”

“What materials were they?”

“Wires, a motherboard and some plates of metal.”

“And what would this have built?”

“A remote.” He gestured to Lamont. “Specifically the same type of remote we Skelecogs use in the maintenance of our Bosses.”

“Interesting.”

 

* * *

Jeremiah stood before the doors to Wilson B Cheese's office. “Lamont. I'll only be a moment.”

“Only a moment?”

“I do not wish to dwell in his presence for longer than I can help.”

“You speak so coldly of him, considering you were once friends.”

Jeremiah heaved a sigh. “Yes. I suppose I do.” He nearly jumped when Lamont suddenly draped his large hand over his shoulders. The Lawbot Master sighed again. “I'm all right, my child.” And the hand was removed. He approached the doors and threw them open without knocking. The office was empty. Jeremiah's eyes narrowed; he was well aware of the old Bossbot's wily nature. He entered the room while Lamont peeked in, curious. Just as the old Lawbot reached the desk and had turned his thoughts to searching through it's contents, the bookcase on the back wall slid open and a tall, red bear clad in a dark brown Bossbot suit stepped out. They exchanged looks of surprise.

“What are _you_?”

“ _I_ am a Hybrid.” She placed one hand on her hip and the other on her chin. “Let me guess. You must be. . . Jeremiah Bigwig.”

He glared at her. “And  _ you _ are?”

“Ursula Cheese.”

“One of Wilson's creations, I'd wager.”

“I'm his daughter, actually.”

He turned a disapproving look on Lamont. “And  _ when _ were you going to tell me about this?”

“When it came up,” Lamont replied cooly.

Jeremiah scowled down at Ursula, who smirked back. “Why did you allow this?”

“Our Cogs voted on the issue. The majority voted yes.”

“. . . I see.”

“So are you here to see my father? Or are you going to continue intruding in his office?”

“I am here to see your-. . . to see Wilson. I wish to question him-”

“About the destruction of the CFO, I know. Wait here. I'll go get him.”

Jeremiah gave Ursula a sour look as she disappeared back into the secret room. She reappeared minutes later, dragging Wilson Cheese by the back of his suit.

“Ursula, let go of me!”

“Here he is,” she informed him, cheerfully, pushing the Bossbot Master before him.

The two old Cogs stared at each other for a long moment before Wilson swallowed, breaking the silence. “Hello, Jeremiah.”

“Wilson.”

He nodded to the Cog Boss, over Jeremiah's shoulder. “Lamont,” who nodded back.

“I'll just leave you to it.” Ursula made to leave the room but Wilson shot out a hand a seized her by the elbow. He pulled her close and placed two hands, fondly, on her shoulders. “Jeremiah, this is my daughter, Ursula.”

“We've met.” Jeremiah turned a cold look on her. “Leave us, child.”

She frowned back. “I was just going.” Then pulled out of her father's grip and left the room, closing the doors behind her and ignoring the pleading look Wilson gave her.

That left the two old Cogs in the room together.

“Sit,” the Lawbot commanded. And Wilson sat.

“I wish to question you about the destruction of the CFO,” he began, pulling out the folder the Cashbot Forman had given him. He threw it on the desk. “What do you make of these?”

The Bossbot obediently flipped through the folder. “Explosives placed on key parts of the CFO's engine. Hmm. They certainly knew what they were doing.”

“And who would you say had the knowledge.”

“Gyro Gearloose, any one of the Senior Tech teams, Ursula perhaps and. . . me. . .”

“There was suspicious activity and supplies have mysteriously gone missing in your Maintenance and Repair. It was shortly before the incident.”

Wilson looked up alarmed. “I have no knowledge of this.”

Jeremiah leaned forward slightly, fixing him with a piercing look. “Are you quite sure?”

“This is _my Headquarters_ , Jeremiah. I have no cause to be surreptitious here.”

The Lawbot folded his arms.

“Do you _actually_ believe me capable of this?”

“A long time ago, I believed I knew you. Then I discovered I didn't.”

Wilson double facepalmed and heaved a sigh into his hands. He let his arms flop onto his desk. “It was not I, Jeremiah. The Cogs are our children. It pains me to see them hurting so.”

The Lawbot's expression softened. “Speaking of children. I was awoken by your son.”

“You wish to know why I changed my mind?”

He nodded.

“I could not escape the corruption. Roscoe was my backup plan.”

“Hmph. I should've known.”

“I love my son, Jeremiah. I have no regrets.”

“He's a lot like Elmo was at that age.”

“Yes, I'd noticed.”

“And this daughter of yours, Ursula. _She_ is a lot like _you_.”

“Yes,” Wilson replied allowing his gaze to drop to the desk. “I know.”

 

* * *

“That was a lot longer than “only a moment”, Father,” Lamont Bigwig remarked, slightly amused when the two Cog Masters finally emerged from Wilson Cheese's office.

“Paaa!” Wilson “Oof!”ed as Roscoe glomped him. “I love you too, Pa.”

“Oh, you heard that,” he mumbled sheepishly as he fought off Jacques the spybot's affections.

“You two sure had a lot to talk about,” the young Cog observed.

“It was not nearly as interesting as I'd hoped it would be,” Ursula added.

Jeremiah glared at them. “Where you three eavesdropping?”

“She started it!” Roscoe objected, releasing his father to point accusingly at his sister.

“Well what else were we supposed to do?” she asked, casually.

And Lamont simply shrugged, making no attempt to deny the accusation.

“Ursula,” Wilson sighed. “It is impolite to eavesdrop on another's conversation.”

“Whatever,” she snorted. “I was bored.”

The old Lawbot massaged his temples in irritation. “I don't have time for this. Lamont, take us home.”

“As you wish.”

Jacques barked as the CEO waved after the two departing Lawbots. “Goodbye Monty. Goodbye by Jer. Good luck in the investigation.”

Lamont stifled a chuckle as Jeremiah uttered an exasperated, “ _ Bossbots. _ ”

 

* * *

The two Lawbots sighed when they finally entered the Chief Justice's chambers. He rolled up to his desk and frowned at a note that had been left for him. His frown deepened as he read. When he reached the end, he calmly tore it up and threw it in the bin.

Jeremiah eyed the remains curiously. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” he replied absently. “Just some nonsense.”

The Bigwig climbed onto the table and pulled out his notebook. “Right, then. Let us reflect on what we have learned.”

Lamont leaned his head on one hand and listened politely.

“The CFO ordered an assistant before he was destroyed but also gave an order slip 284-9.

Nothing found in the routine check up before the incident. And several devices of unknown origin were discovered attached to key points on his engine in the examination.

So they could only have been installed between then. In addition his memory backup was also destroyed, prior to the incident.”

“The perpetrator must have had access to Cashbot Headquarters.”

“Yes, not to mention knowledge of the CFO's engine structure.”

“And this is why you considered Wilson Cheese a suspect?”

“The schematics of a Cog Boss are closely guarded secrets. And the key points on the CFO's engines suggests some inside knowledge. Having designed a Cog Boss himself, Wilson would have this. And there is also the fact that he does not have the loyalty program that our Cogs do and could in theory be capable of harming a fellow Cog.”

“What would be his motive?”

“ _That_ I don't know.  Now, the CFO appeared distracted to the VP. And he was definitely distracted when meeting with the CEO. This combined with the VP's observation and the fact that he had ordered 284-9 an assistant beforehand strongly suggests to me that he was aware of his fate. Though what would be his reason for keeping quiet about it?”

“And how did he know, I wonder.”

“That is a good question. Perhaps the perpetrator told him themselves?”

“And somehow threatened him into silence.”

“Indeed. Perhaps, there's a note, or remnants of one that we can find.”

“I'll make a note of it.”

Lamont smiled, while Jeremiah remained oblivious.

“Now the suspicious activity and missing supplies in Bossbot Headquarters. What do you make of that?”

“Troubling. If the activity there is connected to the investigation, that would suggest a Cog is responsible. Do we have anything to connect them to the incident?”

“The Bossbot Foreman mention that the missing supplies would have built a wireless remote. That could have been the one used to gain access to the CFO's engine.”

“Would there be any way to prove that?”

“We'll have to ask.”

“Would there be a need to make a remote when one that works with the CFO is already available?”

“Hmm, good point. Though they would have to know where to find it.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Explain.”

“You're equating finding and using the CFO's remote with already knowing where it is. But they could have taken any length of time to locate it.”

Jeremiah blinked. “Touché. That could mean the mystery at Bossbot Headquarters does indeed bear no relevance to our case and is in fact a red herring.”

“Which brings us to our obvious suspects. The Toons.”

“Wilson did mention our creator, Gearloose. He would certainly have the ability and the motive.”

“Is it a possibility that the mysterious activity in Bossbot is a _deliberate_ red herring?”

“You're suggesting that Toons have already discovered the Headquarters but are keeping it under wraps?”

“I am.”

Jeremiah pondered the idea. “It is quite possible, actually, if part of their plan is to sow confusion amongst our ranks. I'd like to look into compiling a list of suspects.” He turned to look at Lamont, who gazed placidly back. His expression softened. “You look tired, fledgeling. With all that's happened today, I haven't given you pause for thought have I? Go and rest.”

The CJ debated with himself for moment. “Yes,” he relented. “All right. Goodnight then, Father.”

Jeremiah smiled fondly after him. “Goodnight, my child.”

 

* * *

412-2 quietly opened the door to his shared room and slipped inside. Five eager Loan Sharks were already waiting for him to return. They crowded around him as he entered, forcing him to back up against the closed door.

“Two you're back!”

“How was it?”

“Yeah, how'd it go big bro?”

“What did you do?”

“What was he like?”

Two cringed. “Whoa, whoa, whoa guys. One at a time please.”

The first stepped up. “I'll go first. How was your first day as the Cashbot Second Assistant?”

“It was all right, uh, Three. Nothing too challenging. He had me help him with some paperwork.”

Silence followed his statement.

“What?”

“Two, I'm Five.”

“And Three's dead.”

412-2 slapped a hand to the side of his face, aghast. “Oh gosh, really?”

The 412 siblings exchanged concerned looks.

“Don't you remember?”

“Um. . . well. . . Maybe?”

One of the Loan Sharks pointed at themselves. “Who am I?”

“Six?”

“ _Wrong_. I'm Nine.”

“What about me?”

“Eight?”

“Seven. And Eight is dead too.”

“Oh.”

“My gears,” Five exclaimed, “You really _don't_ remember do you?”

He stared blankly at them for a moment before simply grinning and shrugging in apology.

 

* * *

“Is this really necessary?” 412-2 sighed as his brothers dragged him into M'n'R.

“Yes,” they chorused.

A Skelecog approached them. “Can I help you?” It was one of the junior team.

“We hope so,” said Four. “Our brother, Two here has just received an upgrade and now he can't remember our names.”

“Or even who's died,” Five added.

The Skelecog scratched his chin. "Unusual but not unheard of. He's having trouble connecting to his memory banks is all. These things usually sort themselves out after a week or so. I can take a look at him now anyway, if it'll make you feel better."

“If you would.”

Two sighed as he was escorted to a workstation and instructed to lie down on it. The Skelecog unbutton his suit jacket and shirt, pulled open his chest plate and plugged a cable into his harddrive.

“Now let's have a look.” He initiated a scan and tapped his chin while he waited for the results. Reams and reams of data appeared on screen and he took a step back. “What. . . what is this?”

“What's what?” asked Nine, alarmed.

“Is something wrong?” Eight added.

The Skelecog turned to look at them. “Um. Wait here. I'm going to go and get one of the Senior team to have a look.”

The Loan Sharks exchanged concerned looks.

The junior team member reappeared minutes later with another Skelecog in tow. He gestured to the screen. “And that's what I found.”

The Senior team member scrutinised the readout for a moment before dismissing it and turning back to the 412 batch. “You can relax, it's nothing.”

“What?”

“Nothing?” Six asked.

He patted the smaller Skelecog on the head. “It's been a long day for this one. He just misread is all.”

The junior frowned and scratched his head. “I could've sworn. . . “

“So is everything all right with me?” Two asked from the workstation.

“Fine and dandy, friend. Like my colleague said, there's a slight glitch in the connection to his memory bank, but it'll smooth out in about a week. You just gotta keep working at it.”

Five nodded. “Okay. I guess we'll just have to wait then.”

“Can I get up, now?” Two asked.

 

* * *

The following morning, Jeremiah Bigwig, list of suspects in hand and accompanied by 159-2, approached the chambers of the Chief Justice.

Lamont was already there, bright and early. He seemed agitated and was twiddling his thumbs; a nervous habit of his.

“We shall begin the interrogations as soon as we haul them in,” The Lawbot Master announced and handed the list to the Cog Boss for his approval.

The CJ glanced at the list, nodding his agreement and handed it back. “I have something to finish here first. You two go on ahead without me. I'll be right with you.”

Jeremiah's eyebrows furrowed. “Can't it wait? I'm surprised you don't want to start immediately, Lamont. The culprit is somewhere out there, waiting.”

“I'll be _right there_.” Lamont replied, his tone suddenly short and clipped. “I _just need_ to finish _this first_.”

The old Lawbot folded his arms. “And _what_ is so important-?” he began but was not given the opportunity to finish. For Lamont suddenly shunted his table aside, seized the two smaller Lawbots in hand and launched them from the room. Their airborne travel was cut brutally short by the wall opposite.

There were several loud explosions as they got to their feet in time to see ceiling cave in, burying the Chief Justice under tonnes of rubble.

Jeremiah's anger metamorphosed swiftly to anguish. “LAMONT!”

“Chief!”

The two Lawbots rushed forward and made attempts to shift the rubble to no avail. Jeremiah nearly jumped out of his suit when his mobile phone went off. 159-2 continued to struggle with a support beam as he answered it with a sinking feeling.

“Y-yes?”

“Master, it's the Foreman! The Chief Justice's memory backup has just been destroyed!”

The Second in Command turned at the sound of his Master's phone clattering to the floor. “. . . Master?”

"He's gone. My incisive, _brilliant_ boy, is _gone_."

 


	10. Chapter 9: The Arrest

Flippy Doggenbottom sat before his desk, scowling at his paperwork. He sighed when the phone rang, glad of the break no matter how brief. “Hey, this is Flippy.”

“ _Flippy it's Sal_.”

“Ah good. What's the situation with the Cashbots?”

“ _It's. . . really not good. And not just them now_.”

The blue dog frowned. “Has something happened?”

“ _The CFO was destroyed the other day_.”

“What?!”

“ _And just this morning, so was the CJ_.”

He let the hand clutching the phone to sink to the desk as he absorbed the news. This was really not good. Flippy blinked, aware that Sal was still on the line and hastily put the phone to ear. “Thank you, Sal. I'll take it from here.”

“ _Okay. Do you want to set up a meeting with Dad_?”

“No, that's all right. Thank you for the help, Sal.”

“ _You're welcome_.”

The two rung off and Flippy began to massage away a headache that was suddenly threatening to rear it's ugly head. Just what in the heck was going on over there? Cogs attacking Cogs? No, that couldn't be right. Judging from what he'd learned from 118-7 that was not only highly unlikely but borderline impossible. It was about as feasible as Toons attacking Toons.

He heaved a sigh. If Cogs were not responsible, then it could only be Toons. A conclusion the Cogs would be swiftly arriving at. And if the Cashbot and Lawbot Bosses had been destroyed, then the Cogs would be reviving their respective Masters to fill the void. Flippy remembered well the days when Jeremiah Bigwig was in charge.

He picked up the phone and began to the long task of warning the other Resistance leaders to be on high alert.

Things were getting  _ even stranger _ .

 

* * *

Antoinette O'Toole paced the lobby of Toon Hall as she waited for group members to arrive. In ones and twos, the team assembled.

She glanced around at the faces of those she trusted. Cool Mac, Evina, Silly Paddlewhip, Doctor Fluffy Sparkleberry, Edumacated, Captain Comet McToon and Melody all stared back.

“You all probably want to know why I called you here at such short notice.”

The group exchanged concerned looks and nodded in unison.

“Me and the other Resistance leaders have received some grave news. It appears that someone has destroyed the CFO and the CJ.”

There were wide eyes, slack jaws and gasps of “What?” all round.

“You know what that means don'tcha?”

Comet nodded looking grim. “They're going to think we did it. And they're probably going to retaliate.”

“That's what I thought. So we're going to need day patrols for when the Cogs decide to up the ante. That's where you all come in.”

“All right. What's our game plan?” asked Cool Mac.

“We'll split into two groups. You, Evina and Silly are with me. Fluffy, Ed, Melody, you guys are with Comet.”

“And where are we going,” Ed asked.

“We've got other groups organising, so we'll only need to pick one playground to cover. My team's got Daisy Gardens.”

“Okay,” Comet replied. “We'll take the Brrrgh then.”

Annie nodded. “I'll liaise with the others and let them know.”

The Captain turned to his teammates. “You guys ready to rock?”

“Yeah!” Ed replied.

“Let's do this!” Fluffy agreed.

“I'm ready,” Melody nodded.

“Then let's gag up and roll out!”

 

* * *

Chief Executive Officer, Roscoe Cheese was sprawled over his desk once more, the spybot, Jacques, nuzzling his face affectionately. He was sad to hear the news, yet not as upset as he had been after word of the CFO had reached him. He wondered if should feel guilty about the fact that he did not care as much for Lamont, but considering the Lawbot's decidedly unfriendly demeanour towards him, he just could not help it.

“You don't seem as cut up about poor Lamont, Roscoe,” his sister, Ursula remarked.

“I know.”

“Does this mean you're growing up?”

“Maybe? I don't know.” The young Cog heaved a sigh as he patted Jacques. “Pa?”

“Yes, child?”

“What's happening all of a sudden?”

Wilson Cheese looked sadly at the floor. “I wish I knew.”

“And who is next?”

“No one is-.”

“It could be the VP,” Ursula cut in. “Since Roscoe is the youngest, your death would have the least impact.”

“Ursula!”

“Or it could be you, considering how demoralised poor Elmo is already.”

“Ursula, enough of that,” Wilson scolded. “No one will be next, Roscoe. The Sellbot and Bossbot Tech teams are on high alert. They will make certain that no further tragedies will happen.”

Ursula shrugged. “If you say so.”

Roscoe sighed; he was not entirely convinced of that. “I'm heading out to Lawbot and Sellbot HQ. I want to speak to Jer and Elmo again.”

The Bossbot Master blinked. “If you think that's best.”

“I do. I'm the CEO. Gotta play the part. Hold the fort for me until I get back, won't you?”

“Of course, child.”

“And Ursula, would you look after Jacques for me?”

She pulled a face. “If I must.”

He patted her fondly on the head. “Thank you, little sis.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” the Hybrid huffed as Roscoe trundled out the door. “I'm going to go and. . . walk the thing or whatever it is I'm supposed to do.” The spybot eagerly followed her outside, leaving Wilson alone with his thoughts. He too wondered what was going on all of a sudden and decided it was time to head down to Maintenance and Repair to address the issue Jeremiah Bigwig had bought to his attention.

 

* * *

The Master scanned M'n'R for the Bossbot Factory Foreman and espied him in his usual spot before the Headquarters' supercomputer. He approached and cleared his throat to draw the Foreman's attention.

“Ah. Master. What's the occasion?”

“Jeremiah made mention of some unusual activity down here. Is this true?”

“It is.”

“Why was I not informed?”

He shrugged. “I didn't think it important enough to trouble you, what with everything else that's been going on.”

“Foreman. . . _Three_ ,” he sighed. “I would very much like to be made aware of everything that occurs in my Headquarters even if that means being troubled the little things. How do you think I felt when _Jeremiah_ showed up to inform _me_ of events that transpired in _my own_ _home_?”

The Foreman, Skelecog 761-3 made no reply, instead he folded his arms and rubbed his chin with a skeletal finger.

Wilson frowned. “Do you understand?”

“Do you trust me?”

The archaic Big Cheese blinked, caught off guard by such an unnecessary question. “Of course I trust you, Three.”

“Then let me handle this.”

He frowned again, realising there was more to the Skelecog's words than he was letting on. “What do you-?”

“Three!” It was another one of the 761 batch that comprised the Senior Tech Team. “I need your help with something.”

“Thank you, Five, I'll be right there.” He turned his attention back to the Bossbot Master. “Will that be all, Master?”

“No, I want you to tell me-.”

“Perhaps you'd like to take a look at the entries yourself?” He punched a few keys on the keyboard, calling up the list of unauthored activity.

Wilson stared at the screen, momentarily distracted.

“If there's nothing else, Master, I will take my leave.” He gave the old Cog a short bow and followed after his younger brother before the former CEO could say another word.

The Bossbot glared after them, astounded by his temerity. He looked back at the list and his expression became troubled. It was not he who had entered these. So who then was responsible?

 

* * *

Jeremiah Bigwig removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, trying very hard to keep it together. He was in a spare room that he had commandeered to be office, sitting before the desk that the Lawbot Second in Command, 159-2 and his remaining sibling, 159-8 had carried in. It was currently sparsely furnished and decorated but little about that would change.

A hand holding a teacup appeared in his field of vision. He accepted it with a tired, “Thank you, Two.” A soothing cup of tea was just what he needed. “How did you know this was my favourite flavour?” He asked with some degree of surprise.

“Your son likes-uh. _Liked_ it. I just assumed.”

Jeremiah stared woefully into his teacup.

“The Tech Team informs me that they will begin excavating the Chief Justice post-haste and use the remains in the construction of a replacement.”

The old Lawbot sighed and went back to pinching his nose looking pained.

Two, seated in the only other chair in the room, quietly sipped his tea in the silence that descended.

At length, the Master stirred. “Two, these are troubling times for our kind. Despite our loss, we  _ must _ persevere and find the cause of this before more perish. Do you agree?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Splendid.” He was about to continue but was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Yes, who is it?”

It was Eight. “Master, the Chief Executive Officer is here to see you.”

“What does _he_ want?” he sighed irritably as he stood and made for the door.

Roscoe Cheese waved sheepishly at him. “Hey Jer, you, uh. . . You look. . . Better than I expected. . .”

“Did you expect me to be some snivelling wreck?” he snapped.

“Uuuuummaybe?” he shrugged apologetically.

“Well as you can see, I am not. You may now leave.”

“Can I ask what you're going to do now, before I go?”

“159-2 and I will resume the investigation. I have a few Toons I wish to haul in and question.”

“Sounds like a plan. If you need any Bossbots to assist, you need only ask.”

“ _Thank_ you but that will _not_ be necessary,” he replied haughtily. “My Lawbots will be _more_ than sufficient.”

“Oh I see.”

“Will that be all?”

“Uuuh. . .”

“Then you're dismissed.” The Lawbot disappeared back into his office to plan the first move with 159-2.

Roscoe sighed at the closed door. “Now I know where Lamont gets it,” before trundling off to Sellbot Headquarters.

 

* * *

Antoinette, Cool Mac, Evina and Silly hustled through the streets of Daisy's Garden.

“Never thought I'd see the day when Lawbots and Cashbots became an endangered species,” Evina remarked. “There's hardly any of them out and about.”

“I suppose that's to be expected. Considering,” Silly replied.

Cool Mac's ear twitched. “Hey do you guys hear that?”

The group ground to a halt and strained their ears to listen.

“Airborne Cogs,” observed Annie.

“A whole fleet of them by the sound of it.”

The group jumped when a team of eight Bigwigs touched down in a circle around them.

“Holy where did they come from?!” Silly yelped.

The lead, a Bigwig marked out from the others by a light blue-grey band around his left arm with the Lawbot insignia on it, stepped forward. “I am the Lawbot Second in Command, 159-2. I am here to escort you, Antoinette O'Toole back to Headquarters. You are under arrest.”

“On what grounds?” Cool Mac demanded.

“On suspicion of the destruction of the Chiefs Justice and Financial Officer. You do not have to say anything but anything you do say may be used against you in court.”

The group promptly whipped out a selection of gags and prepared to defend her. Antoinette glowered at the Bigwigs before turning to her teammates. “It's all right, guys. Stand down.”

“No way!” Evina replied.

“We're not just going to leave you at the mercy of _these_ losers,” Cool Mac added.

“If I don't go with them now, they'll keep sending Lawbots until I do. Isn't that right, 192-whatever?”

“159-2. That is correct.”

Silly sighed and put his gag away. “All right fine. But we're telling Flippy.” The other two followed his example.

Annie smiled. “I'll be waiting.” She watched them throw down their black holes and jump in before turning back to 159-2.

The Lawbot nodded to his teammates. Two Bigwigs stepped forward and the yellow dog yelped as they each seized an arm. Propellors shot out of their heads and together the group lifted off, bound for Lawbot Headquarters.

 

* * *

Amelia S Doctor, a blue dog/Spin Doctor Hybrid was in the crowd gathered in the lobby of Lawbot HQ. She tugged on her father's hand. “Dad, do you think that Toon did it?”

The Spin Doctor rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful as he watched the two Bigwigs drag Antoinette along behind their Second in Command, flanked by the remaining five members of the pickup team. “If I recall rightly, that's the Toon that targeted the Sellbots.”

Amelia also rubbed her chin. “If that's the case, then it's doubtful?”

“Well she may not be the mastermind, but she could still be involved.”

The Hybrid nodded. “Hmm, that's true.”  _ Innocent or not, though _ , she thought.  _ Ursula will still want to know _ .

 

* * *

“ _What_?!” Ursula Cheese raged down the phone, causing Amelia to flinch away from hers and Jacques the Spybot to cower at her feet. “Unbelievable! Thank you for informing me, Amelia.”

“ _Anytime, Ursula_.”

The two rang off and she angrily shoved her mobile inside her pocket before storming off with Jacques trailing on her heels, to find her father.

Wilson Cheese jumped when the doors to his office were suddenly thrown open. Off the Hybrid's expression, he frowned and asked, “Ursula, my dear. Whatever's the matter?”

She marched over to the desk and slammed down her fists. “They went out and captured a Toon without me! Why was I not informed?!”

He blinked. “They? You mean Jeremiah?”

“And his Second in Command, yes.”

“Ursula, the investigation is a Lawbot affair, it has nothing to do with me.”

“But this is what Hybrids were _created_ for! I've been itching to see some real action for once. I'm ready, Father, let me join them.”

“It's not my decision to make,” he sighed.

“Then _make_ them let me.”

Wilson regarded her a good long moment, Jacques filling the silence with his whimpering, before relenting with a sigh. “All right, I'll see what I can do.” He pulled out his mobile and scrolled through the list of stored numbers; it had been  _ such _ a long time since he last had to call. After a brief moment of wondering if this would even work, he rang the number and put the phone to his audio receptor.

Three rings later, the Lawbot's surprised voice came through the speaker. “. . .  _ Wilson _ ?”

“Jeremiah.”

“ _To what do I owe the honour_?”

“Ursula got wind of the arrest you made today. She wants to join you.”

Jeremiah snorted. “ _ You may tell her, no. I have no need of her assistance; my Lawbots are quite capable, thank you _ .”

He sighed. “I thought you'd say that.”

Ursula frowned. “What's he saying?”

The Bossbot put a hand over the receiver. “He doesn't want you-” The Hybrid angrily rounded the table and snatched the phone from him before he could finish. “Ursula!”

“Listen up, Bigwig and listen _good_ ,” she snarled as Wilson facepalmed. “Either I go out there with approval, or I go out there without. Which seems the more productive to you?”

“ _I do not appreciate being spoken to in such a manner,_ child _.”_

“ _I_ can get things done in less time and less effort. You want a Toon brought in? It's done.” She emphasised her point with a snap of her fingers. “Bringing me in makes sense. I'd expect the Master of the Lawbots to know what that means.”

“Fine! _Since I can tell that you'll only make life difficult for me otherwise, you have my permission to join the team._ ”

Ursula smirked triumphantly. “I knew you'd see reason, Bigwig.”

“ _You will report here_ immediately _for discussion of your first assignment_.”

“Excellent, I'll be right there.” She held out the phone for her father to take. He seized her wrist instead. “Ursula, this behaviour is unacceptable. You show no sympathy to your grieving brother, eavesdrop on a private conversation and now this. I don't know _where_ you get this from.”

Ursula shrugged, unimpressed. “Perhaps it's from my mother's side. Anyway, you don't get what you want in life by rolling over. I didn't. And got what I wanted. Now if you'll excuse me, I  _ finally _ have a job to do.” She pulled out of his grip and strutted from the room.

Jacques whined at his feet and nudged him for attention.

Wilson stared forlornly down at the Spybot and patted it absently. “No, Jacques. I fear she's too much like me.”

 

* * *

Flippy jumped when the door to his office burst open. Silly, Evina and Cool Mac tumbled in.

“Can I. . . help you?”

“Annie's been arrested!” the three announced in unison.

The Mayor was on his feet in an instant. “What?!”

“A group of Bigwigs-” Silly began.

“Swooped in and-” Evina continued.

“They took Annie!” Cool Mac finished.

“Of all the nerve!” He snatched the phone of the hook, angrily punched in some numbers and seethed as he waited for an answer. “Boxer, it's Flippy. I need you here right now, Annie's been kidnapped.”

Moments after putting the phone down, Boxer McSocks entered through the door. “What's the emergency, Flippy?”

“Annie's been hauled in by the Lawbots.”

“What the heck for?”

“They think she mighta been responsible for blowing up the CFO the CJ,” Evina explained.

Boxer frowned, confused. “Why would they think that? She goes after Sellbots.”

Evina simply shrugged.

“Maybe they're just covering all the angles?” Cool Mac suggested.

“Well whatever their reason, we're going to Lawbot HQ to get her back,” said Flippy.

“You got it,” said Boxer.

“You can count on us,” Silly added.

The group headed out the door, running straight into Comet and team. They collectively “Oof!”ed and quickly picked themselves up off the floor.

“Annie's been kidnapped by Lawbots!” Comet announced. “We were patrolling the Brrrgh when we saw her in the hands of a group of Bigwigs bound for Lawbot HQ. We came as soon as we could.”

He nodded. “I know. We're going there to get her back.”

“We're with you,” said Melody.

“Then follow us.”

He whipped out his black hole and jumped in. Boxer and the two patrol where swift to follow.

 


	11. Chapter 10: The Sellbot Master

_Antoinette O'Toole folded her arms and glared at the two Lawbots seated before her. One of them was 159-2 the Second in Command, the other was Jeremiah Bigwig himself. She remembered when the Bloodsuckers used to stalk the streets during his reign and was thus extremely wary of him._

“ _You understand why you were brought here?” 159-2 asked._

“ _Yes. And it wasn't me.”_

_The Master clasped his hands together and pinned her with a piercing look. “Perhaps you'll care to tell us why we should believe that?”_

_She swallowed, unnerved by his gaze. “I'm not exactly what you'd call a demolitions expert. Nor do I have any particular reason to go after either the CFO or the CJ. My grievance is with the Sellbots. And only really 717-3, who will confirm this if you ask him._ I _would've targeted the VP first if it was me. And besides, the, uh, issue has since been resolved.”_

“ _How so?” 159-2 asked._

“ _Something I thought had happened didn't. I was mistaken. And don't bother asking_ what _that was, it's personal. And totally has nothing to do with this.”_

“ _You were captured by the Chief Justice when you infiltrated our Headquarters and then turned over to the VP. Perhaps you targeted him out of revenge?”_

“ _Then why not him first? Why the CFO instead? I've had no encounter with him.”_

_The Second in Command rubbed his chin and stared at his papers._

“ _You may not have been the mastermind, Miss O'Toole but you could still have been involved,” Jeremiah observed._

_Antoinette slammed her fists on the table in frustration. “Then why were the Sellbots not targeted_ first _?!” She glared at one Lawbot then the other and her eyebrows shot up in realisation. “You don't actually think I did it, do you?”_

_Jeremiah stood and left the room, Two quickly following him._

“ _She's right, Master. We don't.”_

_He sighed. “Agreed. From what I've read she's not what one would call subtle; her attacks have always been direct. And as she has admitted, she bore animosity to the Sellbots, and was notorious for primarily targeting Cold Callers. This deviates from her MO.”_

“ _Should we release her then?”_

“ _Confirm with 717-3, first.”_

“ _Yes, Master.” Two pulled out his mobile and speed dialled the Sellbot's number._

_He answered with a tired, “_ Hey Two _.”_

“ _You sound tired, friend.”_

“It's been a long day _.”_

“ _It's not even over, yet.”_

“Yes. I know. It will be a _very_ long day when it is _.”_

_The Lawbot smiled, which swiftly vanished when he noticed the Master glaring at him with folded arms. “Uh, Two. I need you to confirm something for me.”_

“Shoot _.”_

“ _We pulled in Antoinette O'Toole for questioning. She says she had a grievance against you Sellbots, but you in particular.”_

“That's correct _.”_

“ _Do you think she would target, or assist with someone targeting the Cashbots and Lawbots?”_

“Against us Sellbots, she'd jump at the chance. Any of our other three, she wouldn't be interested. She's not the one if that's what you're asking _.”_

“ _Thank you, Three, that's all I needed to know.”_

“Two wait. You got time to chat _?”_

“ _Three, I'm with the Master,” he whispered through his teeth._

“Ah I see. I'd better let you go then _.”_

“ _Another time, Three.”_

_The Sellbot sighed. “_ Yes, please _.”_

_They hung up and Two glanced over to Jeremiah who was now drumming the fingers of one hand impatiently. “Three doesn't think she was involved, either.”_

“ _Then she is free to leave.”_

 

* * *

Mayor Flippy, Boxer McSocks and the two teams beat feet into the foyer. They came to a halt to assess the opposition. The Lawbot Headquarters foyer was actually most devoid of Lawbots. Only a few of them were maintaining patrol and had yet to take notice of the new arrivals.

“Flippy, wait,” said Boxer as he put a restraining hand on Flippy's shoulder. “What's our game plan? Are we just going to go barging in?”

The blue dog scratched his chin. Even for a group of well armed high laffers, going in all gags blazing was not a terribly smart plan. Still, the security of Lawbot HQ seemed to be quite low at the moment. He wondered what their best course of action was.

“Let's play by ear,” he finally concluded. “Try not to pick any fights, and run if you can; our primary objective is to liberate Annie.”

“Got it,” the group replied.

“Good, let's go.”

They hustled up the long flight of stairs the Lawbot HQ lobby and slipped inside. They were about to go steaming through the building in search of Antoinette O'Toole when they saw the very Toon they were looking was already for waiting for them.

“Hey guys,” she said, smiling cheerfully.

Boxer's jaw hit the floor while Flippy yelped a startled, “Annie!”

“Annie!” Melody repeated. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to rescue me,” she laughed.

“Rescue you indeed!” Edumacated replied. “It looks like you rescued yourself!”

The yellow Toon shrugged. “They interrogated me, then they let me go. I'm a free Toon.”

Cool Mac blinked. “Just like that?”

“Yup. Just like that.”

“So they don't think you did it?” Evina asked.

“Nope.”

“Well good,” said Comet. “That means they'll leave you in peace now.”

Flippy scratched his head. “I guess we came charging all the way out here for nothing then.”

Edumacated placed her hands on her hips. “So what happens now? Are we resuming the patrol?”

“Yes. Comet, your team can go on ahead.”

They nodded, collectively whipped out their black holes and vanished from sight, bound for the Brrrgh.

He turned back to Antoinette. “What about you, Annie? Are you still up for it? I'd understand if you wanted some downtime after what happened.”

The yellow dog dropped her gaze to the floor and scratched the back of one leg with her foot as she contemplated her decision. “Actually,” she said at length. “I think I'd like that.”

Flippy nodded. “All right. Boxer, can you take over for her?”

“Sure thing,” the blue cat nodded. “Daisy Gardens was it?”

Annie nodded.

He turned to his team. “Right then, let's move.”

“Yes sir!” The team pulled out their black holes and jumped in.

“Are you going to be all right?”

“I'll be fine, Flippy.”

“You know where to find me.” He too teleported away, leaving her the sole Toon in Lawbot Headquarters foyer.

She pulled out her Shticker Book and stared at her map for a good long moment as she mustered the courage for her next trip. Then she took a deep breath, pulled out a black hole and dived in.

 

* * *

Antoinette ran into the courtyard of Sellbot Headquarters. She glanced around at the patrolling Sellbots, deciding her options; run into the HQ, try and sneak into the HQ or take a Sellbot hostage and demand to be taken into the HQ. The third option seemed to her to the best bet so she waited for an unsuspecting Cold Caller to get close and then pounced. He squeaked in alarm as she put on her fiercest expression and leaned in close. “Take me to 717-3.”

The Cold Caller swallowed, eyes wide with fear. “I will not endanger my Second in Command,” he told her bravely.

“Do you know who I am, Cold Caller?”

He nodded, fairly certain this was the feared Sellbot Killer he'd heard so much about. “You're Antoinette O'Toole.”

She smiled evilly. “Then you know all about what I do to little Cold Callers like you.”

He nodded, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

“So you'll be a good little Cog and take me to 717-3 if you want to see your brothers again.”

The Sellbot's lower lip trembled and he took a gulp in preparation to answer.

“You there! Unhand him!”

Antoinette looked up to see a Mover & Shaker approaching, flanked by a Glad Hander and a Name Dropper. “Uh oh.” In a flash she whipped out a Seltzer bottle and seized the Cold Caller in a headlock. “Don't come any closer unless you want me to use this on him.”

The trio froze and glared at her. “Blasted Toon,” the Mover & Shaker growled.

The Toon smirked at them. “That's what I thought.” She released the Cold Caller, who had already started to cry, and shoved him towards the Lobby doors. “Move.” He shuffled as fast as his little legs would take him and tried not to trip and fall each time she drove him forward.

Antoinette put her Seltzer away and let him go when he had lead her to her desired destination.

The Second in Command was _not_ happy to see her. “What do _you_ want, Toon?”

“I was hauled in by the Lawbots. They reminded me that I wanted to talk to you. That's why I'm here.”

“Talk about what?”

“How are you?”

“What's it to you?”

“You know why.”

“No actually, I don't. Why do you who hated Sellbots so, suddenly care about my wellbeing?”

“Because I know the truth. What I thought had happened didn't. I was wrong.” She quietly added. “I still love you, Three.”

“That's 717-3, to you, Toon,” he snapped.

“You asked me to call you Three, once.”

“I don't remember.”

“Nothing?”

“No.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“ _No_!”

“Have you tried?”

“ _Yes_! I have _tried._ I have tried to remember what possessed me to fall in love with a Toon. But the memory was deleted. It's lost to me forever.”

“Forever?!”

“That's what I said.”

“You mean there's-?”

“No hope of getting it back? No. It's just gone. As far I personally am concerned it never happened.”

“So. . . we can't. . . ?”

Three folded his arms and simply watched as the Toon squeezed her eyes shut and let her head fall to her chest as she clasped her hands tightly together. She made neither sound nor movement for a good long while. Just as the Second in Command was thinking of speaking up, the yellow dog exhaled.

“So it's over.” She met his gaze. “Thank you for telling me the truth, Three. I won't bother you again.”

“ _717-3_. And good to hear.” He sat down at his desk and resumed his paperwork.

Antoinette stared at him a moment longer before sighing and quietly leaving his office.

 

* * *

Chief Executive Officer, Roscoe Cheese trundled up to the bedroom door of the Senior Vice President of Sales. He raised his hand to knock and stopped. _No point in knocking_ , he thought and quietly opened the door. He peeked in and glanced over to Elmo. The Sellbot was awake, slumped dejectedly over his bed but had yet to take notice of him.

“Elmo?”

No response.

Roscoe entered the room and rolled over. “Elmo?”

Nothing.

He grasped one of the VP's hands and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Elmo?”

Still nothing.

“Talk to me, please.”

Silence.

He waved a hand before the senior Cog's eyes.

Not even a blink.

“Oh, Elmo,” he sighed, defeated. This would not do. If the VP was this completely out of it, then 717-3 would be taking up the slack. And likely alone. _Best to pay the Second in Command a visit_ , he decided.

 

* * *

717-3 rubbed his eyes with one hand, took a look at all the paperwork he still had to do and heaved a sigh as he got stuck back in.

A knock at the door startled him. “What?!” he barked at the door, angered by the third interruption today. It was one thing after another and was not helping him get through the backlog any faster.

“Erm. 717-3, it's me. Roscoe.”

He facepalmed at his mistake, trudged over to the door and hauled it open. “Hey Chief,” he sighed. “What do you want? I mean,” He hastily backtracked realising how rude that sounded. “How can I help?”

Roscoe smiled sympathetically down at him. “You look tired, 717-3.”

He ran one hand through his hair. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“Is there no one who could help? Your brothers for example?”

“It's not as simple as that. I've had the training. They haven't.”

The Bossbot pondered a moment. “There is one who could. . .”

“Yeah. The Master. I was hoping I wouldn't have to drag him into this.”

“You're a good, loyal Cog, 717-3. But you can't bear the weight of Sellbot Headquarters alone. This is the reason we Cog Bosses appointed Seconds, after all.”

Three scratched the back of his head. “I suppose that's a good point.” He sighed. “Guess I have no choice then.”

“I'm sure he'll understand.”

“Don't suppose you'd care to accompany me down to Maintenance and Repair?”

“I'd be delighted, 717-3. You can even have a lift, if you'd like.”

He smiled. “You're too kind, Chief.”

 

* * *

Mr Mavin Hollywood groaned as he awoke. “Please don't tell me you're here to inform me that something has happened to my son.”

“He's alive and unharmed, Master,” 717-3 assured him. “Just catatonic.”

Marvin looked up surprised. “Really? What's hap-?” Abruptly his expression morphed into one of anger at the sight of the CEO.“ _ You _ !” He spat. “You have some nerve showing up here, Cheesy!”

He blinked. “Erm, actually, I'm Roscoe. Cheesy's my father.”

The Sellbot's eyebrows shot up. “Well colour me up and call me a Toon! What made him change his mind?”

“Er, well. I don't _actually_ know. He told Jeremiah something about not escaping a corruption thing and that I was his backup plan. But he hasn't told _me_ , yet. I was, uh, _listening in_.”

“Eavesdropping you mean?” he asked with an amused in expression.

“ _Ssshh_!” the young Cog franticly whispered. “ _Don't tell anyone that_!”

Marvin smiled and tapped the side of his nose. “Your secret is safe with me, little one.”

“Okay good. Because I don't want to look bad.”

He turned to look at 717-3. “If you don't mind me asking, who are you?”

“717-3, Master. The Sellbot Second in Command.”

He stuck out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you, 717-3.”

The Sellbot gladly shook it. “And an honour to meet _you_ , Master.”

“Let's go see to Elmo, shall we?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I can give you a lift if you'd like,” Roscoe offered.

“That would be greatly appreciated.”

“We'll bring you up to date on the way,” Three added.

 

* * *

Elmo stirred when the three Cogs entered his room. “Jacques and Monty. They're gone. They're both gone. Am I next?”

“No one is next, Elmo. Our Cogs are on high alert, they'll make sure nothing else happens.”

He sighed and slumped further. “I miss them so.”

“I know you do.” Marvin turned to Roscoe and Three. “Leave this to me.”

“Are you sure I can't help?”

“I'm quite sure, Roscoe. But thank you for the offer.”

He sighed, feeling useless. “Okay.”

To Three he said, “I'll join you shortly.”

“Yes, Master.” The Second in Command left, Roscoe heading out after him, spying the Master pulling a small box from his breast pocket with the pair of eyes in the back of his head before he disappeared from view.

“You look tired, little one,” said Marvin fondly, as he approached the VP.

“I can't sleep,” he mumbled in reply.

The old Sellbot just smiled affectionately, twisted the small key in the side of the box and opened it. Tinkling music filled the room and soothed by the melody, Elmo's eyes gradually slid closed, his shoulders sagging in sleep.

 

* * *

717-3 had his nose figuratively buried in his work when he was pulled out of it by a knock on the door. He blinked. “Come in?”

It was the Sellbot Master.

“Oh, Master. How is he?”

“Elmo is sleeping and should feel better after he's been well rested.”

Three sighed, relieved. “That's good to hear.”

Marvin smiled at him. “You seem rather fond of him.”

“He's a good boss and a good friend. All our Sellbots adore him.”

His smile broadened. “Excellent. Then I'd say I've taught him well.”

“He'd be pleased to hear you say that, I'm sure.”

“May I take a seat?”

“Oh! Of course, Master. Please excuse my manners.”

The old Sellbot gratefully eased himself into the extra chair. “Now then, this is a very dire situation I've awoken into. Tell me everything that's happened.”

“As you wish, Master. Since you shut down, Sellbot HQ has been discovered, Cashbot HQ and the CFO, Jacques Baron have been built and discovered, likewise with Lawbot HQ and the Chief Justice Lamont Bigwig. Bossbot HQ and the CEO, Roscoe Cheese have been built but are so far yet to be officially discovered. The Bossbot Master has begun his plan to conquer Toontown once and for all with the use of an army of Cog/Toon Hybrids. And finally, the CFO, Jacques Baron was recently destroyed along with his backup, prompting the awakening of Masters Jasper R Baron and Jeremiah Bigwig, as was the CJ, Lamont Bigwig, early this morning.”

He sighed. “I see. Thank you, Three. I shall have to make time to speak to Jasper and Jeremiah later. In the meantime, I will assume the role of Senior Vice President of Sales until Elmo feels better. I'd like my first order to be a list of current Sellbots with specs matching or similar to the other Masters.”

“We have three currently, Master. A 95.3% match with Master Benjamin Telemarketer, 97.5% match with Master Nadia Name Dropper and 92.6% with Master Algernon Mover & Shaker.”

“Excellent. Call them up, I'd like to meet them.”

“One of them is a Cold Caller, Master. You know the rules.”

“Ah I see,” he sighed. “All right. Just the two, then, please.”

 

* * *

118-7 idly swirled the contents of his cup as he listened in to the conversation his siblings where having.

“I cannot believe that the CFO and the CJ are gone for good. It's simply unimaginable,” said 118-5.

“Our poor VP,” 118-1 sighed. “He's taking this so hard.”

“If only there was something we could do for him,” 118-2 agreed.

“It feels like Cog Nation is starting to fall apart,” said Five mournfully.

“No, we're not and we won't,” 118-4 replied confidently. “The Masters were far outnumbered when they started out, they didn't have nearly the strength that we do now. But they stuck it out. They pulled together and they did it. As long as we do the same, we can all get through this. The Toons can't keep us down.”

“Speaking of, those blasted Toons are to blame for this, no mistake,” said 118-6 angrily. “We should strike back!”

“Reckless actions get no one anywhere, young one,” One soothed.

“I know _that_ ,” Six snapped back. “But. . . “ he deflated, letting his head fall to the table. “I just want to do _something_.”

“I know. We all do.”

Seven stared into the contents of his cup trying to swallow the guilt threatening to overwhelm him. His siblings did not know he was still dating Roxy McSocks and if they found out, in the current climate they would be less than pleased. He jumped when someone placed a hand on his shoulder.

One smiled back at him. “Seven. I know what you're thinking.”

He blinked.

“We don't blame you for the incident with that Toon, Roxy McSocks. We're thankful it's over.” The others nodded in agreement.

Seven sighed feeling even worse.

She kissed him affectionately on the forehead. “Cheer up, dearie.”

He managed a weak smile and she nodded, satisfied, before turning back to her oil.

The crackling of the tannoy heralded an HQ-wide announcement, drawing the attention of all the Sellbots in the Canteen. “ _Attention all Sellbots. This is the Second in Command. The 118 and 102 batches are to report to my office immediately. The Master would like to see you_.”

Seven spat out his mouthful of oil, hitting Six, who was sitting in front of him, square in the face, while Two and Four choked on theirs.

“Six, I'm sorry!” he gasped, then quickly zipped around the table and began to clean off the oil with his handkerchief.

Four looked alarmed. “What could the Master possibly want with us?”

“Did we do something wrong?” Five asked, perplexed.

Seven paused in his cleaning and looked to his sisters, horrified. “Th-this is about me, isn't it?”

Two frowned. “If that's the case, why would he also call for the 102 batch?”

“Perhaps one of them fell in love with a Toon as well?” Six suggested.

“I thought I was the only one, besides that Cold Caller?”

The Telemarketer shrugged.

One stood up. “I guess we'll find out.”

The 118 batch exchanged looks before also standing.

“Come on,” she said and they reluctantly filed after her.

 

* * *

As they approached, they spied a group of Movers & Shakers led by a couple of Two-Faces heading in their direction. The two batches met at the door.

“You must be the 118 batch,” said the lead Two-Face.

“Yes, that's right,” One replied. “And you're the 102 batch I presume.”

He nodded. “We are.”

“Do you know why we're here?”

The other Two-Face spoke up. “This is probably about me.” He scratched his chin. “If you're asking, then you clearly don't know.”

They exchanged nervous looks.

“Well uh,” Two began. “One of us unfortunately fell in love with a Toon. They were fixed, of course, before you ask.”

The 102 exchanged surprised looks.

“It's certainly not about that,” the lead Two-Face assured them.

Seven heaved a sigh of relief.

“Or at least that's not why we're here. But then if it's none of your four, it must be either of you two,” he said glancing at the two Telemarketers. “If indeed we're all here for the same reason.”

“If the Master is calling for us both at the same time, I would assume we are,” the other pointed out.

The 118 batch exchanged confused looks.

“What are you talking about?” Four asked.

“Best to let the Master explain.”

Before they could say another word, he knocked on the door.

“Enter,” the Second in Command called.

He gestured for the 118 batch to enter first. They hesitated until One mustered up her courage and strode inside.

Mr Marvin Hollywood smiled warmly at the two batches. “Thank you all for coming. I assume you all know why you're here?”

“We do,” said the lead Two-Face.

“We don't actually,” said One.

Marvin frowned at 717-3.

“That's correct. 118-7 is still a Telemarketer,” Seven squeaked at the mention of his ident, “but his work with Miss Roxy McSocks qualifies him for an expeditious upgrade. However he happens to be a speed set which exempts him from it.”

He blinked. “Ah, I see.”

717-3 smiled. “I will of course explain later, Master.”

“Thank you, Three. Which of you, then, is 118-7?”

His siblings looked to him as one. He gulped and disappeared behind Six.

He gave him a kindly smile. “You're not in trouble, little one. I just wanted to talk.”

“What about?” One asked, as Seven peeked out from behind his older brother.

“What do you know about spec-matching?”

The 118 batch exchanged puzzled looks and shrugged.

“Not much,” Seven admitted.

He turned to the 102 batch. “I assume you were told all about this?”

They nodded.

“I trust you won't mind me repeating this for their benefit?”

“Not at all, Master,” the other Two-Face replied.

“Long ago, when my siblings and I were establishing Sellbot Headquarters, with the assistance of the first Skelecog Team, we built the Factory that still stands today. Our programming skills were at the time rudimentary and so we opted to copy our existing specifications and feed them into the Factory's computer. This created new personalities by randomising those specifications. We theorised that Cogs with specs similar to or matching our own would emerge. Those Cogs with a 90% match or more we called our children. You, Seven are one such Cog. You have a 95.3% match with my brother, Benjamin Telemarketer,” he smiled fondly at him. “It is a pleasure to meet you, nephew.”

Seven just stared at him as if he had started ranting in gibberish. His siblings were stunned into silence. Until Six spoke. “But what. . . but what about the rest of us?”

“You'll all have a much higher match with Master Telemarketer than usual, around 70-80%,” 717-3 nodded at that. “Such is the case with my siblings and Master Algernon Mover & Shaker,” the other Two-Face explained.

“Ah. Then you must be 102-3 then.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Now now, none of that. I'm Uncle Marvin to you, Three. And you, Seven.”

“As you wish, Ma-.Uh. Uncle.”

“Wait,” Seven mumbled. “Wait,” he repeated, putting his hands on either side of his head as the room started to spin. “ _Wait_.”

“Seven?” One looked concerned.

“He's my. . . he's my. . .”

“Your father, Seven,” Marvin finished, smiling sympathetically at him.

“. . . My father,” he repeated faintly.

“I'm your Uncle. And my son, Elmo and 102-3 here are your cousins.”

The Sellbot could hear nothing but a loud rushing noise, then darkness consumed his vision and a falling sensation was the last he was aware of. He fell back into One's awaiting arms.

“Seven!” they yelped.

Two grasped a hand and patted it gently, while Four lightly tapped his face.

“It's no good,” she sighed. “He's out cold.”

Marvin blinked. “Hmm. That wasn't quite the reaction I was expecting.”

One scooped the unconscious Telemarketer up, lifting him easily. “Master. With all due respect. We must take our leave. This. . . this is too much.”

“Of course, I understand. I will speak with him later, if that's all right.”

“Thank you, Master.”

The 118 batch filed out of the room, leaving Marvin to chat with his other nephew.

 

* * *

Scrooge McDuck strolled jovially through his mansion. He was always in particularly good mood after counting his fortune in his vault. He flipped a coin into the air, caught it and deftly stuffed it into his pocket. “Och, it's soo good teh be me.”

Loud knocking echoed through the corridors.

“Now who could that be?” Scrooge frowned and pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. It was late. Too late for visitors. He spotted his puzzled butler emerging from a nearby room. “Ducksworth!” he called. “Tell whoever it is too poosh off. It's late and it's me dinnertime.”

“At once, sir.”

Scrooge continued to the dinning room, his mood undented, as his butler headed to the door.

Ducksworth was mildly surprised to be staring _up_ the unwanted visitor. “I must apologise,” he drawled. “But it is far too late to see my master now. He is having dinner and then he will be retiring for the night.”

“It's a very important matter.”

“I am sorry, but visiting hours are over. Please try again in the morning.”

The visitor calmly pushed him aside and strode into the house, headed for the dining room. Ducksworth followed, sputtering in indignation.

Scrooge jumped when his dining room doors were thrown open. Standing there in the doorway was none other than Ursula Cheese. She sneered down at him. “I'm afraid I must insist.”

 


	12. Chapter 11: Reassurance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Not gonna lie. Disney ending Toontown Online totally killed my motivation to work on this. There was a point where I thought I wasn’t ever going to finish it. And then I hadn’t worked on it for so long I unfortunately forgot some of the finer details about how I was going to get to where I was going with all this. :p**
> 
> **This also had to be split into two chapters because it was getting so ridiculously long, like even by _my_ standards.**

Lawbot Master, Jeremiah Bigwig was interrupted from his paperwork by a knock on the door. He frowned and consulted his pocket watch for the time. “Excellent,” he said to himself. It was about time for Ursula Cheese, Hybrid daughter of the Bossbot Master, Wilson Cheese to return from her mission. “Come in.”

159-2, the Lawbot Second-in-Command entered. “Master, apologies for the disruption-”

“Nonsense, this is about Miss Cheese is it not?”

“Uh. Yes, Master. Miss Cheese was successful in her mission. Scrooge McDuck is currently interred in one of our Interrogation Rooms.”

“As I suspected.” He began to rise.

“However. . .”

Jeremiah froze. “However what?”

“There is another matter that has just arisen.”

“Is it important?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

The old Lawbot frowned as he sat back down. “ _In a manner of speaking_ ,” he repeated as if it was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. “Is it a matter of importance, or not?”

Two inhaled. “The Lawbot Second Assistant has just reported for duty. Master.”

“The Lawbot Second _what_?”

“He gave me this.” It was a note in Lamont Bigwig, the former Chief Justice's own handwriting.

Jeremiah frowned deeply at the writing. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“He maintains it isn't.”

The Lawbot Master hauled open one of the desk drawers and pulled out the case notes on their current investigation. He flipped through it until he found the note the Cashbot Second-in-Command, 284-9 had given him and read it.

“ _This a duty assignment. 412-2, you will take on the role of my Second in Command's assistant upon receipt of your upgrade.”_

Then compared it with the note 159-2 had just handed him.

“ _This a duty assignment. 254-6, you will take on the role of my Second in Command's assistant upon receipt of your upgrade.”_

“It's the same note, word for word. Only the handwriting and Ident are different.”

Two nodded. “Those were my thoughts as well, Master.”

“This is Lamont's handwriting, no mistake, yet when could he _possibly_ have written it?”

“I suppose it isn't impossible that he wrote it late in the night? Or even early in the morning? He _had_ arrived in his office ahead of us before-. . . the incident. And judging from his behaviour, he did _seem_ to be aware of his fate. . . ”

Jeremiah sighed. Then frowned as something clicked in his head. “That message. . .”

“. . . What message?”

“When we got back from our investigation. There was a message waiting for him on his desk. He didn't tell me what it was about. It must've been a warning.”

It was Two's turn to frown. “So he knew the whole time and didn't say anything about it? I wonder why he even returned to the room when he knew what was going to happen?”

The old Lawbot sighed. “I don't know.” He stared down at Lamont's note. “But apparently he thought this Lawbot would be helpful to us. Where is this 254-6 by the way?”

“He's outside, Master.”

“Send him in.”

Two left and returned with the Lawbot in question as Jeremiah rose to meet him. He clasped his hands together behind his back and gave the Bigwig an appraising look over his half moon spectacles. 254-6 returned his look, unfazed.

“You have the look of the newly upgraded about you, 254-6.”

“Yes. . . Master. I was upgraded mere hours ago. The duty assignment was waiting for me in my pigeon hole when I got back. I thought it prudent to report in for duty immediately.”

The Lawbot Master nodded, deciding already that the Lawbot had promise. “Excellent. You may oversee our interrogation of Scrooge McDuck.”

 

* * *

Jeremiah Bigwig stared at Scrooge McDuck through the one way window. The old duck was sitting with all the dignity his long years afforded him as he drummed the fingers of one hand on the single oak table in the interrogation room he was currently waiting in.

“There, you see Bigwig?” Ursula Cheese crowed. “It was a piece of cake. How many Lawbots would it have taken to fetch the old coot? Three? _Five_ I daresay? You only need me, Bigwig. You see that don't you?”

254-6 and 159-2 exchanged looks as Jeremiah exhaled a long suffering sigh. “Yes, yes, child. Enough of your incessant prattling.” The Hybrid bristled. “Though I see you managed to bring him in unharmed. Commendable.” Ursula's smirk returned. “Now, we should begin the interrogation posthaste. It would be unseemly to keep him waiting considering the hour.”

 

* * *

Scrooge McDuck looked up at the sound of the door opening and his beak split into a condescending beam. “Weyll, weyll, weyll. If it isn't mah old investment, Jeremiah Bigwig.”

Jeremiah glared at him.

“Good teh see yoo again. How've yoo bin?”

“Spare me your pleasantries, McDuck, we have some questions for you.”

“Ask away, Jeremiah. Ah'll not answer a single one.”

159-2 folded his arms. “And why not?”

“Ah'll not answer fer nuthin', unless me lawyer is present. So if ye'd be so kind as to fetch him fer me.”

“We'll do no such thing.”

The old duck leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head and throwing one leg over the other. “Then Ah suggest yeh get comfy, mah friends. Yer in fer a long wait.”

Jeremiah opened his mouth to speak.

“Ah-ah!” Scrooge cut in, wagging a finger. “Me lawyer, or me silence. The choice is yoors.”

Ursula seethed on the other side of the one way window. “This is going nowhere,” she growled to herself and marched from the room, shoving 254-6 effortlessly aside as he moved to restrain her. The three occupants of the interrogation room jumped when the door was suddenly slammed open. Ursula stormed over to the table, kicked it aside, unsheathed the claws on one hand and menacingly held them inches from the tip of his beak. “You see these? Why don't I show you what I can do with them?”

Scrooge narrowed his eyes at her. “Yeh wouldn't _dare_.”

“ _Wouldn't_ I?”

During the exchange, Jeremiah, momentarily rendered speechless by the unexpected intrusion had looked towards the open door to where 254-6 was hovering. The Lawbot shrugged helplessly in silent reply and Jeremiah turned back to the Hybrid, glaring askance. He finally found his voice. “ _Miss_ Cheese!” he barked. “ _What_ do you think you're doing?!”

“What does it _look_ like I'm doing?”

“Leave the room at once, child. I need to have a word with you in private.”

“Stow it, Bigwig!” she snarled. “ _Your_ way isn't getting us anywhere.” She turned a devious look on Scrooge. “Just let me have a minute or two alone with him and you'll get your answers.”

“How _dare_ you-?!”

Scrooge angrily interrupted them. “All right, all right, Ah'll talk. Yer heer aboot the CFO and CJ aren'tcha? Well it was _nuthin_ teh doo with me, yeh heer? _Nuthin_. There. Ah said mah piece so yeh can let me goo.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Jeremiah stood and gave the Hybrid a cryptic look. “I believe we have our answers.”

“ _What_?” Ursula scowled at him. “He said he didn't do it, and you _believe_ him?”

“He said he didn't do it _right after_ you threatened to do unpleasant things to him if he didn't talk. In any case, I believe we may find Gyro Gearloose more cooperative.”

“Aye. Ye'd be right in that.”

“You are free to leave, McDuck.”

“Yer too kind.”

 

* * *

118-7's eyes fluttered open. The first thing he became aware of was the fact that he was lying on his bunk, staring up at the steel grating of 118-6's bed that was above his own. The second thing was that his eldest sister, 118-1 was sitting next to him on the bed. She smiled when he met her gaze. “How are you feeling Seven?”

He groaned as he sat up and rubbed his forehead, the remnants of a headache still buzzing about his head. “I had a strange dream.”

One smiled at him gently as she laid a hand on his shoulder. “Seven. It wasn't a dream.”

The Sellbot recoiled in horror. “What?! _No_. No that can't be!” He looked imploringly at the rest of his siblings but they dropped their gazes or exchanged awkward looks. His gaze returned again his eldest sister. “Tell me it's not true.”

One said nothing, only returned his gaze sorrowfully.

Seven put his head in his hands and began to cry.

The Name Dropper hugged him tightly. “Seven, sweetie, shh, it's all right.”

“B-but. But I. . .”

“You're still the same Seven you always were to us,” Six reassured him.

“You. . . you mean that?” he sniffled.

“Of course, silly,” Two playfully scolded him as she tussled his hair.

“You being the son of whatever Master doesn't change a thing,” Four added.

He stared at the grating of his bed. “I. . . I don't know.”

“I know it was a shock but you'll get used to it,” said One.

“O-okay. . . But. . .”

“Yes?”

“Can we. . . can we keep it between us? I mean. For now?”

“Or course, dear.”

“Our lips are sealed,” Six agreed.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you. . . I appreciate that. . . But. . . But I. . .”

“You need some time alone to think?” One asked.

“Yes. . . Please.”

She smiled and squeezed his shoulder affectionately before standing. “We're only a phone call away if you need us.”

He gave her a weak smile in reply.

The Name Dropper ushered her siblings from the room leaving Seven alone in his thoughts.

 

* * *

Mayor Flippy Doggenbottom eyed Scrooge McDuck as he sauntered into his office and took a seat. “Can I. . . help you?”

“Ah have some bad news, Ah'm afraid.”

“All right,” he nodded, putting his pen down and giving the old duck his full attention. “What do you have to report?”

“Ah've just come back from an ' _interrogation_ '?”

The blue dog frowned. “You were pulled in?”

“Aye, Ah was. Yoo'll never guess who Ah saw.”

“I can't think of anyone besides Jeremiah Bigwig.”

“Of course. But that's teh be expected. The CJ was his son, Ah believe. Who else would lead the investigation boot him?”

“Right, of course,” he nodded frowning. “Then. . . who?”

He leaned forward in the chair. “Mercedes Paw and Wilson Cheese's Hybrid.”

“ _What?!_ ” Flippy thundered, slamming his fists on the table as he shot to his feet. “ _Please_ tell me you were mistaken.”

“Ah wish Ah was boot Ah'm afraid not.”

He ground his fingers into his temples. “Tell me more.”

“Weyll first, it was she whoo pulled me in.”

“And I assume she spoke?”

“She did.”

“So she's not 'savage and uncontrollable' as we'd previously hoped.”

“Weyll. . . that's a funny thing isn't it?”

“. . . What is?”

“She has quite a temper on her. She barged into the room after Ah refused to cooperate. Shoolda seen the look on Jeremiah's face.”

“That sounds like something Mercedes would do.”

“Aye, it does. Boot. . .”

“But what?”

“Ah woulda described her as insubordinate rather than just hot tempered. Shoolda heard what she said.”

Flippy frowned and rubbed his chin. “I see.” He sighed. “Well this doesn't bode well. Looks like Sal fixed the machine after all.” He slapped both hands to his forehead in frustration. “Ugh, we're not even  _close_ to ready for this!” A pause. “Was there anything else?”

“Just that they're planning to goo after Gyro next.”

“I'll let him know. Thank you Scrooge, you've been most helpful.”

The old duck bowed his head, solemnly. “It's the least Ah can doo.”

 

* * *

Roxy and Sal McSocks popped up out of a black hole in front of their shared house. To say they were surprised to see 118-7 waiting for them was an understatement. He was leaning against the frame of the front door, arms folded. They both squealed in delight and closed the distance between them in a run.

Seven raised a hand. “Wait. Stop.” And they both skidded to a halt.

“Seven?” Roxy asked looking perplexed. “Is something wrong?”

The Telemarketer folded his arms again and looked at the floor. “Something happened today. More specifically, I found something out about myself.” He raised his head to look at them. “What do you know of the Original Cogs? The ones we call the Masters?”

Roxy and Sal exchanged puzzled frowns.

“I don’t know much myself,” Sal replied. “Only really what you’ve both told me. And probably less than I should, being half Cog.”

“I was ten when they were first built,” said Roxy. “Or nine. Somewhere around that age. So I don’t remember them at all. I do know they were built by Gyro for Scrooge McDuck and then they weren’t happy working for him so they left to found their own company, Cogs Inc. And I know that the Big Cheese that made Sal is one of them.”

Seven nodded. “Wilson Cheese. He was the last. Until recently.”

“But why are you asking?” Sal asked.

“When the Masters built the Factories for producing Cogs, their poor programming skills forced them to find an alternative method for creating entirely new personalities from scratch. They copied their own existing specifications into the Factory’s computer which would randomise them when creating a new Cog. This would make it possible for Cogs with specifications similar to or matching the Original Cogs to appear. And any Cog that has a match rate of 90% or over is a child of that Master.”

“And . . . you’re one of them?” Sal ventured.

“Yes,” he replied quietly. “I have a 95.3% match with Master Benjamin Telemarketer.”

Roxy and Sal exchanged looks of worry and confusion. They were silent as they tried to work out what this all meant.

Seven moved off the doorframe suddenly. “Don’t you understand?! I’m not just _some Cog_ anymore. _I’m_ the son of one of the _Founders_ of Cog Nation and our leader, the Senior Vice President is my _cousin_. Toons have _destroyed_ the Chief Financial Officer and the Chief Justice and the Cogs, _my people_ , are _falling apart_. I should be fighting Toons. I should be _hating_ them. And yet. . . And yet. . .” The Sellbot faltered, covering his face with his hands.

He let them fall to his sides after a moment. “I’m _so lost_ , Roxy. I feel like I’m being torn in both directions. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Roxy closed her eyes, inhaled and exhaled. “Sal. Go and get the picnic supplies.”

“O-okay.” The Hybrid disappeared into the house.

“Seven,” she said gently, taking his hand in hers. “Come with me.”

He looked up, meeting her gaze. “Where?”

“To a picnic. You remember the last picnic you went to?”

A weak smile, “How could I forget?”

“My friends will be there. The ones you met. Come with me and meet them again.”

“But why?”

“Just come, Seven.”

Sal reappeared with a wicker basket clasped in both hands. “Please, Dad?”

Seven looked from Sal to Roxy before heaving a defeated sigh, his shoulders sagging. “Well, all right. I suppose it can’t hurt.”

The blue cat Toon threw down a blackhole. The three held hands and jumped in. They emerged in the garden area of some Toon’s estate. A group of six Toons were set up and already waiting for them. Lady Trixie, a dark brown monkey dressed in a snowflake shirt and rainbow skirt, Chicken McNugget, a lavender duck clad in dark turquoise dress and shirt with dark blue stripes, Teddison Carter, a brown bear in a blue t-shirt and red shorts, Winky Dizzypop, a cat with yellow-green head and body, green arms and aqua legs, wearing a blue shirt with purple stripes and dark green denim skirt, Lammy, a peach cat in a green shirt with a four leaf clover on it and blue skirt with a gold button, and King Alvin Dynocrunch, a tall cyan dog clothed in a tie-dye shirt, orange shorts with blue and yellow stripe on the sides, all turned their heads at the sound of a blackhole opening.

A chorus of “Heya, Roxy!” and “Hi, Sal!”s greeted them. Then. “Hey!” Teddy exclaimed.

“It’s the Friendly Cog!” said Trixie.

“Long time no see,” Alvin added with a smile.

He blinked. “You’re all happy to see me?”

“Sure!” Winky replied. “It’s not everyday you get to make friends with a Cog.”

The Sellbot stared at Roxy in confusion.

“Uh, I might not have mentioned that you put me in hospital,” she explained quietly.

“Ah, I see.”

“Are you going to join us. . . ? Uh. . .” Lammy trailed off, realising she had forgotten his name.

“118-7.”

“Are you going to join us, 118-7? We have sandwiches and cake and biscuits.”

“Unfortunately your food is incompatible with my inner workings.”

“Well that’s all right,” Alvin replied. “We have lemonade.”

“And tea,” said Teddy.

“And juice,” Chicken added.

“I did enjoy your lemonade. And I’ve not sampled Toon tea or juice,” Seven commented.

“Would you like to?” asked Winky.

He smiled. “I would.”

“Then have a seat.”

Roxy, Sal and Seven joined the six Toons on the large blanket that had been laid down.

“So what do you want to try first, Dad?” Sal asked after she had unpacked the basket she had brought with her and the sandwiches had been distributed around.

“I made more lemonade,” Alvin suggested. “Although you _have_ already tried that.”

“I bought some mixed fruit juice,” offered Chicken. “It’s got blackberries, strawberries, raspberries and cherries in it.”

“And I’ve got some green apple tea,” said Teddy. He pulled out one flask, “Hot,” and another, “and cold.”

The Cog blinked. “They all sound intriguing. I’m not sure where to start.”

“I can make a suggestion if you’d like,” Lammy offered.

“Certainly.”

“Start with the hot tea, then the ice tea, then the juice and finally the lemonade. Alvin likes his lemonade very sweet and it’s best to go from least sweet to most.”

“That sounds very sensible, Miss Lammy.” Lammy beamed in response. “I will have some hot tea first, please, Master Teddison.”

“Dude, please. Just Teddy is fine.”

Drinks were poured out and the Toons began happily chatting amongst themselves. It was as if there was no war happening for either parties; A moment’s peace amid the chaos. Seven sipped his tea, quietly, listening in. Occasionally they engaged him conversation, asking questions like, how he was doing, how he had been, how was he getting on with Sal, did he like the tea? He lowered his cup to his lap and dropped his gaze into it. “Why are you all being so nice to me?” There was silence. “Aren’t you at war with the Cogs?”

The group exchanged glances.

“We’re all still in-training so we haven’t been all that involved,” Trixie eventually spoke up. “And at first, well maybe it was fun, I don’t really remember anymore.”

The group nodded quietly.

“What do you mean at first?” The Sellbot questioned with a light frown.

“Pretty sure no-one expected a Cog to show up to one of our picnics,” said Teddy and they murmured affirmation. “Least of all a _friendly_ Cog.”

“We’ve all been thinking, what if _all_ Cogs could be like you?” Winky continued.

“Yeah, I mean, you took the time to get to know Roxy and vice versa and you became friends,” Alvin added. “So what if instead of attacking each other, we all sat down and tried to get to know each other instead?”

“Wouldn’t that be so much better?” asked Chicken. “Everyone wins.”

“Maybe fighting Cogs was fun at first. But now, we’d rather just be friends,” Lammy finished.

Seven blinked at them all in surprise before staring at Roxy in confusion. The blue cat simply smiled back.

“I. . . see. I didn’t realise our first meeting had such a profound effect on you all.”

“Does this help you, Seven?” Roxy asked.

The Sellbot pondered. “. . . Yes. . . A little bit.”

She squeezed his hand and stood up. “Come with me.”

“Where are you going?” asked Sal.

“Stay here, Sal. I’ll be right back.” To her friends she said, “He’s having a friendship crisis because of reasons, so I’m going to take him to see Mayor Flippy.”

They all nodded as Trixie replied, “Okay, Roxy. We’ll wait for you.”

She threw down a blackhole and they both jumped in, emerging a short distance from Toon Hall.

Seven glanced at her in confusion. “Roxy why are we here?”

“I think you’ll want to hear what Flippy has to say as well.”

“Was that the reason for bringing me to see your friends?”

She smiled. “It’s not as black and white as you think it is, Seven. The truth is, even _we’re_ not sure what’s going on.”

He frowned in concern. “I see.”

Roxy took his hand and lead him into Toon Hall.

Flippy was at his desk, frowning over a number of reports. He looked up, wearily at the new visitors. His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Roxy and 118-7.”

“Mayor Flippy,” Seven responded politely.

“I hope this isn’t a bad time,” she added.

“Not at all. I had a feeling you’d show up sooner or later, Seven. Er. _118_ -7 that is.” He gestured to the pair of plush, red chairs that were arranged before his desk. “Take a seat both of you.” He waited till they had both sat down before continuing. “Now then, 118-7. I’m not wrong in assuming you have been having doubts, maybe some second thoughts about all this? Being involved with a Toon while the Cogs are under attack, right?”

“It’s. . . not quite as simple as that, but yes. I suppose in a, what do you call it? A nutshell?”

“Do you remember Benjamin Telemarketer?” Roxy asked.

“Vaguely,” Flippy replied. “He was one of the original Sellbots as I recall.”

“And you’re familiar with how they created the first Cogs?”

“Through copypaste am I right? Why do you ask?”

“I. . . ” Seven faltered. “. . . I’m his son.”

“ _Oooh_ ,” Flippy responded. “I _see_ ,” he continued, nodding. “That _would_ alter your perspective on things.” He sat for a moment, scratching his chin in thought. “You all probably think that we Toons are responsible, would that be correct?”

“Roxy more or less said that you weren’t.”

“We’re not. Well. . . not officially anyway. If Toons _are_ behind this, and I’m not saying they’re not. Then they’re acting alone. Neither I, nor the Toon Council have any knowledge of the plan, nor are we involved.” He shook his head. “I wish I could say I have any idea about who it is or who it might be but I’m afraid I don’t.”

“And what’s your opinion on all this?” Roxy asked.

Flippy frowned at the reports on his table. “Troubling. _Very_ troubling. Now that we know that it’s possible for Toons and Cogs to coexist, with a little effort on both sides of course, we were hoping to be able to move to making peace with the Cogs.”

The Sellbot raised his eyebrows and blinked. “You were? Is this really true?”

“Yep. Wasn’t quite sure how to go about doing that just yet but that was the plan. Or at least it was. I don’t think that’s an option anymore,” he sighed.

There was a moment of silence before 118-7 spoke up. “What do you think is going to happen now?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Well, we’ve already seen an increase in Cog activity. And hostility unfortunately. As for _officially_ , I would imagine that we are going to see a retaliation of some sort. Probably some kind of large scale invasion. Wouldn’t be too surprised if this is the first thing the new CJ and CFO call for when they come online.”

“I haven’t heard anything official myself,” Seven replied. “I do know the Lawbot Master is currently conducting an investigation.”

“Yeah, we kind of noticed.”

“But that’s all, really.”

“You haven’t heard anything about any possible threats against either the VP or CEO?”

He shook his head.

Flippy folded his arms and frowned again. “I suppose it might be a bit early. But I have the feeling that _something_ is going to happen very soon. Call it Toon intuition.”

Seven and Roxy exchanged concerned looks.

“On a lighter note, I hope this talk has been of some help, 118-7.”

“Yes,” he replied. “Thank you.”

“I give you my word as a Toon. We are _not_ responsible for this. . . Officially at least.”

Seven thought back to when he had been incapacitated. Flippy and Gyro could’ve taken the opportunity to gain more knowledge about the Cogs but they had chosen not to. “I believe you,” he said at length.

Flippy smiled and held out a hand. “It was good to see you again.”

He smiled back and they shook hands. “Although there was one other thing I wanted to ask.”

“Shoot.”

“I was wondering if it would be possible to talk to Gyro Gearloose.”

“Gyro?” he repeated with a confused frown. “If this is about Benjamin Telemarketer, there’s not much he could tell you. Benjamin worked primarily for Scrooge and only saw Gyro for maintenance. You’d be much better off asking one of his siblings. I’m not wrong in assuming Marvin Hollywood has been reawakened, right? And he’s the one who told you?”

“That is correct.”

“Then you should talk to _him_.”

Seven sighed. “I know.”

“Relax, 118-7,” said Flippy patting him on the shoulder. “From what I heard he was a popular Cog. Very easy to talk to.”

The Sellbot sighed again. “That may be true. But he’s still the Master to me.”

He patted him on the shoulder again in sympathy. “Keep me updated on any happenings if you can. I’ll let you know if I hear anything on my end.”

“All right. I will.”

Flippy bade the two goodbye and returned to the reports.

They were surprised to find Sal waiting for them outside. “Mum! Dad!” she exclaimed as she glomped them.

“Sal,” said Seven. “What are you doing here?”

“Well. . . I _may_ have been a teeny tiny bit, um, _anxious,_ ” she explained, scratching the back of one leg with her other foot.

“Anxious?” he repeated.

“She was worried about you,” Roxy translated.

“Yeah,” she replied. “You seemed _really_ upset. . . so. . .”

He smiled in understanding and ruffled her hair affectionately. “I’m sorry I made you worry, Sal. But I’m all better now.”

She glomped him again, hugging him tightly and mumbled, “Thank goodness,” into his suit. “Are you coming back to the picnic?” she asked, stepping back.

He dropped his gaze. “No. . . I should get back. I’m not entirely sure if I’ve been given the day off or not. And my siblings will wonder where I’ve got off to if I’m gone for too long.”

“Oh. . . I guess. . .”

The Sellbot pulled them both into a tight hug. “I love you both.”

“We love you too, Seven,” Roxy replied. “And we’ll see you again.”

They both held his hand as he lifted off, until he pulled away and headed for home.

Sal turned to Roxy, tears building in her eyes.

“Oh dear.” She pulled the Hybrid into a hug. And Sal bawled.

 


	13. Chapter 12: The Original Cogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The chapter of flashbacks lol.  
>  Okay so the reason that Chapter 11 was becoming so long was because of the following segment. Marvin was waffling at length about what happened until I noticed that it was suffering from a severe case of Tell Don’t Show and decided to fix that. Unfortunately in doing so, that bulked out the chapter by a huge amount and so I decided to remove it from Chapter 11 and more or less make it its own chapter.**

118-7 strolled through the corridors of Sellbot Headquarters. He had checked in with his siblings to reassure them that he was all right. 118-1 had gently reminded him that the Master still wanted to see him.

He had swallowed nervously. “Right. Of course. I suppose I should go do that.”

“Do you want us to come with you? Or one of us?”

“No. I. . . I’ll be all right this time.”

His first stop was the Sellbot Second-in-Command, 717-3’s office. He knocked on the door nervously.

“Yes?” 717-3 looked up to see Seven popping his head into the room. “Ah. 118-7. You’re back on your feet I see. Come in.”

He entered the room.

“If you’re looking for the Master, he’s not here. We’ve turned over one of the storage rooms to him for the time being. I can give you directions.”

“Yes. . . Please. . . Sir.”

717-3 smiled at the anxiety evident in Seven’s tone. “Relax, 118-7. The Master is very easy to talk to.”

“. . . So I hear.”

“His office isn’t too far from mine. Just go out the door, head right, turn right, turn left and you should see his name on the door on the lefthand side.”

“Thank you, sir.” He followed the directions as instructed and soon found himself standing outside Mr Marvin Hollywood’s office, apprehension rising. He mustered his courage, raised a trembling hand and, shutting his eyes, knocked on the door.

“Enter.”

Seven had to take a moment to quell the bolt of anxiety that had shot through him, before entering.

Marvin’s face lit up immediately. “Ah! 118-7! Come in!”

The Sellbot shuffled nervously forward.

Marvin smiled gently at him and gestured to the seat that had been placed before his desk. “Take a seat, nephew.”

He sat down and tried to relax. It was then that he noticed a strange, red contraption on the Master’s desk.

“That’s my kettle,” he explained. “I like my oil hot you see.” Seven blinked. He’d never tried oil that had been heated. “Would you like some?” He nodded wordlessly. Marvin pulled out two cups from one of the desk drawers and poured them both some oil. One of the cups was slid across the table and Seven took it with a “Thank you, Master.”

“Now none of that. I’ve already told you, you’re to call me Uncle Marvin.”

“Yes. . . Uncle.”

There was a moment of silence as they both sipped their oil.

“So, Seven. I hear from 717-3 that you have been quite productive. Striking a deal with a Toon. Very adventurous, nephew.”

Seven gulped down a mouthful of oil. “What . . . what did he tell you?”

“That you planned to gain critical information on the Toons by first making a deal with one. They would explain Toons in exchange for information on Cogs and then more when they trusted you. And you didn’t choose just any Toon but one that was still in training specifically because they were young and naïve and easier to win over.” He smiled. “It was a good plan, nephew.”

Seven dropped his gaze into his cup. “Is that all he told you?”

Marvin waved his hand dismissively. “Never mind how it ended, Seven. It sounded just like a plan Benjamin would’ve thought up.”

He looked up sharply. “R-really?”

“Yes, we each had our own strengths. Ben’s was being the wiliest and most adventurous of us Sellbots. He would’ve been proud, I’m sure.”

He said nothing, merely sipping his oil in response. Another moment of silence descended before Seven ventured, “What. . . what was he like?”

Marvin sat for a moment in contemplation. “Ben was. . .” he began then trailed off. He stood up, rounded the table and sat back against it. “Perhaps it would be simpler if I just explained everything, nephew. So let me start at the beginning.”

 

_Mr Hollywood opened his eyes for the first time. It was a curious sensation, beginning. His eyes focused on the ceiling and he became aware that he was lying down. He sat up and looked around. There was someone else in the room with him. The someone else turned away from whatever they were doing and smiled at him. “Ah! You’re awake.”_

_Mr Hollywood could only blink at him in confusion. “Who. . . are you?”_

“ _Gyro Gearloose. I created you.”_

“ _And. . . Who am I?”_

“ _You should be able to tell me that yourself.”_

_Mr Hollywood frowned and thought. Information seemed to come to him as if he had always known but hadn’t realised. “My designation is Mr Hollywood.” Gyro winced at that. “I was created to work for Scrooge McDuck. I am the Senior Vice President of Sales.”_

_Gyro nodded. “That’s right. Everything seems to be in working order.” He turned away and picked up a book that had been laying nearby. “You need a name. A proper one that is. Take a look through this and find something you like.”_

_Mr Hollywood took the book and flipped through it as instructed. He scrutinised each name closely, sounding it out in his head until he eventually settled on the name Marvin._

“ _So it’s Marvin is it?”_

_He nodded. “Yes. I like this name. It feels right.”_

_Gyro beamed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marvin.” And held out his hand._

_Marvin took his hand and shook it enthusiastically. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Gyro Gearloose.”_

 

“You were the first that Gyro built?”

“That is correct. He built us Sellbots first, to manage sales, then the Cashbots to make money, the Lawbots to uphold the laws of the company and finally the Bossbots to lead. After I was completed, he began work on Evangeline and then the rest of my siblings followed. I was present for each of their awakenings.”

 

_Gyro Gearloose ushered the rest of his siblings from the room despite their protests. As Marvin was both the eldest sibling and their leader, he was permitted to stay._

_The one designated Telemarketer was lying unconscious on the workbench, as he had once done. After Gyro had completed the finishing touches on his construction and testing he had charged him up and installed the start up sequence onto Telemarketer’s harddrive. All it would take now was an initiation from an outside source and then he would be fully functional. Gyro sat down at the computer and ran the initial start up sequence._

_There was a whirring sound from Telemarketer’s body as his gears began to spin for the first time. Then he was blinking open his eyes, sitting up and glancing curiously around the room until his gaze befell the other two occupants of the room._

_Marvin smiled gently. “Hello there, little brother.”_

_He blinked. “H-hello. . .”_

“ _I’m Marvin Hollywood. And this is Gyro Gearloose, our creator.”_

_At that, Gyro held up a hand and said cheerfully. “Hey.”_

_Telemarketer mirrored the gesture before dropping his hand and frowning at the floor. “Then who. . . who am I?”_

“ _Why don’t you tell me?” Gyro replied._

_He frowned even harder before the information came to him. “I am designated as Telemarketer. I was created for Scrooge McDuck. I am in charge of communications.” He looked up hesitantly. “Is. . . is that right?”_

_Gyro nodded. “That’s exactly right.”_

“ _And you. You’re Marvin Hollywood. You’re the Senior Vice President of Sales.” Telemarketer got to his feet and stood up straight. “Where should we begin, sir?”_

_Marvin winced. “Call me Marvin, please. As for where to begin, why don’t we start with your name?”_

_He looked confused. “My-my name? I am Telemarketer.”_

_Marvin and Gyro both sighed. “You need a name,” he continued as Gyro reached for the naming book. “A proper name. One that’s yours, of your own choosing.”_

“ _Look through this and pick out one that you like,” Gyro added as he handed Telemarketer the book._

_Telemarketer sat back down and gave the book his full attention, making sure to read through_ all _the names before he settled on Benjamin._

“ _Well then, Benjamin. I think it’s time I introduce you to the rest of our siblings.”_

 

“In the beginning we were happy to simply fulfil our duty, that being to make money for Scrooge McDuck. But as time wore on, we became more. . . _aware_ of what we were doing and what that was worth. We became more aware of ourselves.”

“And that’s when you asked for a pay rise?”

“In recognition and reward for our hard work, yes.”

 

“ _A_ pay rise?! _” Scrooge McDuck scoffed before roaring with laughter. “I think not! Yeh’ll doo what yoo wer built fer and no more!” He shook his head in disbelief. “A pay rise indeed. It’s a wonder Ah pay yoo at all.”_

_Marvin was nearly vibrating in rage and he was about to speak up, to give voice to his anger when a calming hand was laid on his shoulder. It was Jeremiah._

“ _Thank you for granting us an audience and listening to our request,” the Lawbot said. “We will take our leave now.” He then left the room, prompting Marvin, Jasper and Wilson to file out after him, if reluctantly._

_Gyro Gearloose was waiting for them outside Scrooge’s office. “Judging by your faces I take it that didn’t go well.”_

“ _It did not,” Jeremiah replied matter-of-factly._

“ _I see.” Gyro folded his arms and frowned at each of them. “So what happens now?”_

_The four exchanged looks. “We’re not sure,” said Jasper._

“ _Perhaps we will try again in the future,” Wilson suggested._

_Marvin just folded his arms and glared angrily at the floor._

“ _I’ll have a word with him,” said Gyro._

“ _You’re welcome to try,” Jeremiah responded. “But I do not anticipate you receiving a different answer.”_

_Gyro sighed. “I suppose we’ll see won’t we?”_

 

“Of course Scrooge refused. We were nothing more than machines created for one purpose to him, and so he thought nothing of denying us this simple request. We were outraged. That very night, we all gathered together to discuss what we should do.

 

 _Marvin slammed his hands down on one of the desks in outrage. “This is outrageous! We’re nothing more than_ tools _to him!”_

“ _Compose yourself, my friend,” said Jeremiah as the others exchanged looks of dismay. “You must not allow your anger to get the best of you.”_

“ _How can you remain so calm?!” Marvin shot back._

_The Lawbot sighed. “I assure you that am just as displeased as you are. But this is a confidential meeting and we must not be discovered. Unnecessary noises will draw attention to ourselves.”_

_Marvin took a breath and exhaled in an attempt to cool down; Jeremiah had a point._

“ _But Marvin be right,” said Morgan Corporate Raider. “We arr jus’ machines made to do his biddin’ to that Toon.”_

_There were nods and murmurs of agreement._

“ _What do you propose we do?” asked Aleron Legal Eagle._

“ _I think,” Wilson began. “That it is time we left his service and formed our own company.”_

_They exchanged looks of surprise and interest._

“ _You really think we can?” asked Daria Number Cruncher._

“ _Yes. I do,” Wilson replied. “It was what we were created for was it not? We already know the basics of running a company so why not use it for own benefit?”_

“ _But where would we go?” asked Elias Double Talker. “Scrooge would never allow us to form a rival company of our own, he’d dismantle us for sure.”_

“ _I agree. We cannot remain here. We will have to locate the site of a new office.”_

“ _But how will we build it? We don’t have the skills for that.” said Edna Micromanager._

“ _Then we’ll learn.”_

“ _And with what materials?” asked Cedric Tightwad._

“ _We’ll make our own. Or buy them with our own money.”_

“ _It sounds like it’s going to take a lot of work and commitment,” said Jasper. “How are we going to keep this hidden from Scrooge? And Gyro?”_

“ _We will have to do things in our spare time, or during the night, as we are now, when the Toons are asleep.”_

_Jeremiah adjusted his half-moon spectacles. “The plan has promise, so I will give it my vote.” He glanced around at the other Cogs. “What say the rest of you? All those in favour raise your hands.”_

_A forest of hands shot up. It was unanimous._

“ _Excellent,” said Wilson with a smile. “Let’s get started.”_

 

“We decided that we wouldn’t _just_ form our own company but our own home. Somewhere safe. And we would create more workers as the company expanded. This was the foundation of Cogs Inc as I’m sure you’ve already guessed.”

Seven nodded wordlessly.

“We identified the skills that would be needed and began learning and teaching ourselves in secret. Eventually we were ready to begin building our first company headquarters, one that would’ve held all Cog variants and build we did. However what we _didn’t_ know was that while Scrooge had thought the matter over and done with, Gyro was still suspicious.

 

_The Cogs collectively jumped when Gyro Gearloose threw open the main door to their offices and stormed in. “I know what you’re all planning!” he said angrily._

“ _What. . . What do you mean?” Jeremiah asked. It was the first time Marvin heard him stutter._

“ _During Maximilian’s maintenance, I noticed something unusual about the amount of data being stored in his harddrive. In that it had increased significantly since I last checked it. So I examined the contents out of curiosity. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that he had been learning new skills and information. More specifically that which would be necessary in the construction of a new office building. And what would he need those skills for I asked myself?”_

_The Cogs exchanged nervous looks._

“ _So I programmed him to tell me everything. You are planning to establish your own company but I’m not going let that happen.”_

_Silence met this statement. Then Jasper noticed for the first time that Maximilian Short Change was absent and spoke up. “Wait. Gyro. Where’s Max? Where’s my brother?”_

“ _I dismantled him. Which is exactly what I’m going to do with all of you.”_

_There were horrified gasps and exchanged looks. Some even got to their feet although what they intended to do next they did not know._

_Jasper looked aghast but it was Marvin that spoke. “Gyro, how could you do that? Scrooge thinks of us as nothing more than tools but we’re so much more than that. We just want the best for ourselves, to live our own lives and this is the only way. Surely you understand that?”_

_Gyro’s expression faltered for a moment but only for a moment. “I am sorry. But I have had inventions go rogue on me before. I cannot allow that to happen again.”_

“ _What do you mean by that?” Wilson demanded._

_Gyro said nothing. He simply pulled out a shock pistol and fired it before anyone could react. It hit James Yesman square in the chest. He screamed and spasmed and then collapsed to the ground._

“ _James!” his siblings yelped in unison._

“ _Ye scurvy_ dog _!” Morgan roared and hefted a table as Wilson ran to James’ unmoving form and scooped him up. The table was then hurled at Gyro with great force. He took the hit and was thrown backwards from the room._

_Marvin went to Wilson’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Wilson?”_

_The Bossbot gave him an anguished look. James lay limply in his arms. “He-he won’t wake up.”_

“ _W-what do we do now?” asked Caleb Flunky._

“ _We retreat,” Jeremiah replied. “Back to our Headquarters.” The authority in his voice spurred the others into action. Marvin hauled Wilson to his feet by an elbow._

“ _Come on, Will.”_

“ _You’re not going anywhere!” It was Gyro again. He raised his shock pistol once more and fired. Only nothing happened this time. He shook it and bashed it few times against his hand. It made a noise like a falling drop gag and a small spark shot out of the end. “Well shoot.”_

“ _Yeh’ll go down with the_ tide _ye salty sea bass!” Morgan roared and charged at him._

_Gyro wisely ran._

“ _Quickly, everyone,” Jeremiah commanded. “Outside!”_

_The Cogs hurried out after Morgan and they all made a break for their unfinished Headquarters. Only to find that Gyro had destroyed_ that _too. They gazed at the smoking remains in horror. Some dropped to their knees, others began to cry._

“ _What now?!” Josiah Spin Doctor demanded of no-one._

_Silence. Then Jeremiah spoke once more. “There’s only one choice. We cannot remain here. But if we all stay together, that will only increase our chances of discovery.”_

“ _So, what are you saying?” Marvin asked calmly, although he already knew what the answer would be._

“ _We must split up and find new locations for each of our Headquarters. So long as Gyro Gearloose thinks we are all together, we will stand a better chance of remaining undetected for longer.”_

_Marvin closed his eyes and nodded._

“ _Are there any objections?”_

_The Cogs exchanged looks but no one spoke up._

_Jeremiah nodded. “Then we must all take our leave.”_

“ _Where will you go?” asked Jasper._

“ _The neighbourhood they call the Brrrgh. We do not feel the cold and it will keep the Toons away. And you?”_

“ _Hmm. I was thinking of Donald’s Dreamland. It has a certain. . . effect on Toons but not on us. They won’t even notice we’re there.”_

“ _We’ll go to Daisy’s Gardens,” said Marvin. “They’ll be too distracted by the bright colours and flowers to look for us.”_

“ _Which leaves us,” Wilson said with a sigh. “I’m not sure where we should go.”_

“ _Minnie’s Melodyland?” Emmett Downsizer suggested with a shrug. “The Toons spend all their time singing there.”_

“ _Tharr be Donald’s Dock,” said Morgan._

“ _Of course_ you’d _suggest that,” Chase Head Hunter commented with amusement._

“ _Arr,” he replied. “But them Toons love their fishin’.”_

“ _A fair point.”_

“ _Perhaps we_ will _go to Donald’s Dock,” said Wilson. “I recall there being a plot of land beyond it that would make a good building sight for our Headquarters.” He glanced at his siblings and they all nodded._

“ _We’re all in agreement then,” said Jeremiah._

_The Cogs spoke in unison. “We are.”_

“ _Then until we can establish communications with each other, this is farewell. I wish you all good fortune in your endeavours.”_

_They bade each other reluctant goodbyes, and then departed._

 

“Life for us was very hard at first. Our immediate concern was our lack of power. We were fortunate that Gyro had built us to operate without the need to recharge for a number of days, something that we have been unable to replicate. But while we were not in immediate danger from losing power, we still had only days to find a solution. We did not have the means to build our own generator, so we had to find another source of power until we had acquired the tools and materials necessary.”

 

_Mr Marvin Hollywood gazed around at his siblings. They were all gathered together at the end of Oak Street. There was an area beyond which they had all agreed would be the ideal site of their future Headquarters. But before they could begin development, they had a more pressing matter to address._

_Benjamin Telemarketer was examining his wrist socket while his other siblings were frowning and pondering in deep thought._

“ _The only thing I can think of is to steal power from the Toons,” said Thaw Cold Caller._

“ _That would be the obvious solution,” Evangeline Mingler replied. “Except we have no way to plug into it.”_

“ _Then we need to make new plugs,” said Nadia Name Dropper._

“ _Our immediate problem is finding a way to recharge until we can construct our own power source,” Marvin reminded them. “Which will also include a way to plug into it.”_

_Nadia went back to rubbing her chin and frowning at the ground._

“ _We had a charging station in our offices,” said Algernon Mover & Shaker._

“ _Probably destroyed by now,” Evangeline pointed out with a sigh._

“ _But we don’t know that for certain. One of us should go and check. I would be happy to volunteer.”_

_Marvin nodded. “I agree. We must investigate all of our options before we close them off. Algernon, I want you to leave as soon as you’re ready.”_

“ _And try not to get caught,” Evangeline added._

“ _Not to worry, sister dear,” Algernon replied with a reassuring smile. “I will be as a shadow.” The rest of their siblings bid him good luck and he left._

“ _Are there any other avenues we can explore?” Marvin asked._

“ _There is only one other that I can think of,” said Benjamin at length. “The workshop of Gyro Gearloose. He should still have all the necessary backup pieces and replacement parts. We will find what we need there.”_

_Marvin nodded. “Yes. You’re right. It may even be possible to salvage our charging stations from that location as well.”_

“ _I volunteer myself for this mission. If I discover anything else of use that I cannot take with me, I will signal you.”_

“ _Someone else should go with you, Ben. Who volunteers?”_

“ _I do,” Nadia responded before anyone could speak._

“ _And I,” Thaw added._

“ _We would all go gladly,” said Nigel Glad Hander. “But perhaps it would be sensible to limit this mission to the smallest among us.”_

“ _That would be the smart choice,” Evangeline agreed._

“ _And we should wait for Algernon to return from his mission so that we are all on hand should our assistance be required,” Spencer Two-Face added._

 

“After Algernon returned and confirmed Evangeline’s suspicions, Benjamin was assigned lead of the mission and was to take Thaw and Nadia with him. As part of this, he gave us all handheld comm devices, the prototypes of the mobile phones we all use today. He had been working on them since the founding of Cogs Inc but as they were still prototypes, they only operated over a short range, requiring us all be in the vicinity for the operation.”

 

_Marvin looked up at the sky. Night had fallen giving them the cover of darkness but it was also another reminder of the advancement of time, something they had little of._

_The walkie-talkie he had in hand crackled to life and Benjamin’s voice came through the speaker._ “We’ve arrived at Gyro’s workshop but the lights are still on.”

_Marvin glanced at his wristwatch and frowned. He should’ve fallen asleep by now._

“I’m moving in to get a better look.” _There was a moment of silence._ “Confirmed, Gyro is working late on something.”

_The walkie-talkie crackled again and this time it was Evangeline that spoke._ “Should we call this off, Marvin?”

“No,” _Benjamin replied before he could._ “We don’t have time. We’ll just have to wait till he goes to sleep.”

“We could be in for a long wait,” _said Spencer. “_ We should withdraw for now.”

“ _I agree with Spencer,” said Marvin. “The longer we all stay out here, the greater the risk of being discovered.”_

“But we _need_ those recharging cables,” _Benjamin objected._ “I’ll find somewhere to hide and keep watch. The rest of you can withdraw.”

_Marvin sighed. “All right, Ben. Nadia, come to where I am, so you can bridge communications. Thaw, come back, the rest of us are pulling out. Notify us when something happens.”_

“Understood.”

_It was the best part of an hour before the walkie-talkie crackled again._

“Marvin,” _said Nadia._ “Benjamin says that all the lights in the house have just been turned out. We think Gyro has finally gone to bed.”

“ _Excellent news. We should allow him time to fall asleep, though. Say another hour.”_

_It was half an hour later however before there was activity again._ “Marvin! Benjamin says that he just saw movement outside the house!”

“ _What?!” Marvin and the rest of his siblings exclaimed in unison. “Is it the Toons?” He continued as they gathered around him in concern._

“I-I don’t know,” _Nadia replied._

“ _Hold on, I’m coming.”_

“ _We’re coming too,” said Evangeline._

“ _No. Stay here and await my signal. If it_ is _Toons, I’m bringing Ben and Nadia back.”_

_Evangeline sighed and they all reluctantly complied._

_Marvin moved as fast he could. His walkie-talkie crackled as he walked and Nadia spoke again._ “Benjamin says it’s Vladimir.”

“ _What? Is he certain?”_

_There was a brief moment of silence before she responded._ “Yes.”

“ _Tell them to wait till I get in range.”_

“Okay.”

_When he caught sight of Nadia, he raised his walkie-talkie and spoke. “Ben? Can you hear me?”_

“I hear you, Marvin,” _he replied._

“ _Is Vladimir there with you?”_

“I am,” _said Vladimir Bloodsucker._

_Marvin smiled. “It’s good to hear your voice again, my friend. I trust all is well with your brothers?”_

“For now at least. We are all steel in one piece but if we do not solve our recharging problem soon, we will not be functional for long.”

“ _It seems we all had the same idea.”_

“ _Do you think our Bossbot and Cashbot friends will be appearing as well?” Nadia asked._

“ _I wonder that myself.”_

“Should we wait?” _asked Benjamin._

“ _Yes, I think that best. At the very least I’d expect-” he was interrupted by Vladimir suddenly speaking up._

“Look! Benjamin! Eet ees Edna and Dexter.”

_Edna’s voice could be heard, although faintly._ “Hello there, friends.”

“Hello, Edna,” _Benjamin and Vladimir replied._

“I see we all arrived at the same conclusion,” _Dexter Pencil Pusher remarked._

“Marvin was just saying that,” _Benjamin responded._

“If that’s the case then I’d imagine we can expect a Cashbot or two appear as well,” _said Edna._ “We should probably wait for them.”

“ _Edna. Dexter. What became of James?” Silence met this statement. Marvin closed his eyes. “I see. Please convey my condolences to your brothers.”_

“And ours,” _Vladimir added._

“We will. Thank you,” _Edna replied although it was so quiet that it was nearly inaudible._

“There is a possibility that he may be saved but right now we don’t have the means,” _Dexter added._

“Let’s hope so,” _Benjamin murmured._

“Look,” _said_ _Vladimir, breaking the silence that followed. “_ ‘Ere comes Ed-mond.”

“Fancy meeting you here,” _came Edmund Penny Pincher’s amused voice through the walkie-talkie._

_Marvin heaved a sigh. “Edmund. And Edna and Dexter. We’d all understand if you had certain. . ._ intentions _in mind during this mission. But your priority should be finding a solution to our common problem.”_

“We know,” _the three replied._ “Jasper said as much,” _Edmund added._ “But he also said we should sabotage Gyro’s workshop and inventions if we were able to. If he’s planning to pursue us, that should delay him.”

_Marvin nodded. “That’s a good plan.”_

“ _Marvin, they’ve tarried long enough,” Nadia reminded him. “They should get on with the mission.”_

“ _Yes. They should. Ben, we’ll maintain radio silence from here out. Call us if you need us.”_

“Will do, Marvin.”

“ _And all of you?”_

“Yes?” _they all replied._

“ _Return home safely, you hear?”_

“We will, Marvin, don’t worry,” _Benjamin assured him._

 

“Ben and the others were able to retrieve our recharging cables from Gyro’s workshop as well as sabotage his work. With our power problem solved, we were then able to begin work on our Headquarters and, after we were able to establish communication with the other Cogs, our company, Cogs Inc. And the rest as they say is history.”

“I see. . .” Seven said nodding slowly before quietly sipping his oil. He still wasn’t sure what his father would think of him but knew one thing for certain; that Benjamin was a far more courageous Cog than he. “And. . . what happened to him?”

Marvin hung his head. “We lost him to the Corruption. A failsafe measure installed by Gyro in the event that we rebelled. For the most part we found a way around it but not before Benjamin and others succumbed.”

“Do you think Gyro could undo it?”

“I’m sure he could but since we’re enemies, he would have no reason to.”

“. . . What if we weren’t?” he asked cautiously.

Marvin blinked and frowned. “Make peace you mean? With _Gyro_? He’s a Toon. They’ve made it very clear that peace between us is not an option.”

“But what if it wasn’t them?”

Marvin’s frown deepened. “You have reason to suspect it’s someone else? Who?”

“I don’t. But. We don’t know for certain that it _is_ the Toons. No-one has claimed responsibility and we haven’t intercepted any internal communication that supports this, either.”

The Sellbot Master blinked twice. “You make a good point. But if not the Toons, then who else could it be? Surely not one of us?”

“. . . I don’t know.”

Marvin hung his head again and sighed. “Well whoever it is, I have full confidence that Jeremiah will find out. In the meantime, nephew, we should both get back to work.”

Seven nodded, gulped down the rest of the oil, placed the empty cup down on the table and stood up. “Before I go, I wanted to ask, is the VP all right?”

“He is better for being well rested at least.”

“Do you think I should. . . go talk to him?”

He smiled. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.” He pulled out a pen from his breast pocket and quickly scribbled down a number on a notelet. “Here. This is 102-3’s number. Your other cousin. You should talk to him as well when you get the time.”

“Thank you, Ma-uh-Uncle.”

“And don’t forget, Seven. If you ever need to come talk to me, my office is always open.”

 

* * *

118-7 went straight to the Vice President’s room, instead of his office. He had no qualms or hesitations about knocking on the door and he did so twice.

The VP’s tired voice responded, “Come in?” and it pained Seven to hear the hurt still lacing his tone. “Ah, Seven,” he said when the Telemarketer popped his head in. “Are you here to check up on me?”

“I hope I’m not disturbing you, sir.”

The VP smiled weakly. “Not at all. I have been receiving well-wishers all day. It’s helped me feel a lot better.”

“We are all concerned for your wellbeing, sir.”

“I know,” he replied with warmth.

“So, how are you holding up, sir?”

He heaved a heavy sigh and his head flopped back onto his arms. “It’s _so hard_. I’ve known them both for as long as they’ve been online and now. . . they’re gone. And I’m never going to see them again.” He dropped his gaze into his hands. “I still miss them.”

Seven crossed over to the much larger Cog and patted his treadguard gently. “You’ve _always_ given us time to heal from _our_ losses, sir. So please. Take all the time you need to heal from yours.”

The VP smiled a little brighter at that. “Thank you, Seven. I promise _all_ of you that I will.”

Seven smiled back for a moment. Then it vanished and he dropped his gaze to the floor. “There was one other thing I wanted to ask, sir.”

“What is it?”

“Did. . . did you know? About . . . who I really was?”

“That you’re Uncle Benjamin’s son? Of course. I’ve known since your construction, Seven. But the decision was made, long before I came online, to withhold this information from all Children until they became third variant Cogs. It was deemed that this would be when they would be ready to know the truth. So much as I would’ve liked to have told you we were cousins, I could not.”

“Is-. . . is that why you gave my plan such attention?”

The VP smiled weakly as he patted Seven on the head. “A little favouritism doesn't hurt. Besides, I thought your plan was actually a good one.”

“So. . . we’re cousins. . . But. . . What does that mean?”

“Easy there, Seven. That may be true, but I’m still your boss.”

Seven smiled. “Yes, sir.”

“And I appreciate you taking the time to stop by to see how I’m doing. But you’d better get back to work.”

“Of course, sir.” A full batch of Cold Callers was waiting, nervously, outside the doors and they jumped and huddled together in fright when Seven stepped out. He smiled gently at them and then turned back to Vice President. “Some more well-wishers are here for you, sir.”

“Send them in.”

 

* * *

Techno Gearloose pulled his backpack onto his back and headed outside the school to his usual pick up spot. His cousin Newton was being picked up by his mother today and so was not waiting at the usual spot for him. Neither was Amanda. He frowned and checked his watch. She was running late it seemed. The young Toon suddenly noticed that someone else was waiting for him instead. She smiled at him and beckoned him over and he hurried to comply. “Hello, Miss Paw? How can I help you?” Then he frowned. “Uh, why are you wearing a Bossbot Suit?” He looked up. “And are you _taller_?”

'Miss Paw' chuckled. “Actually, my name is Ursula Cheese.” Techno's eyes widened. “And I'm here to bring you in.”

The rooster Toon swallowed, heart now hammering in his chest. “B-but. . . you _can't_. I'm still a minor.”

“Oh, that's all right. We want to question your father too. I'm just taking you in first as bait.”

He barely had time to react before she seized him by the front of his shirt and effortlessly lifting him, flung him over one shoulder. Techno began to shout for help and attempt to struggle out of her grip to no avail. Paying him no mind, she pulled out her mobile and speed-dialled a number with her thumb. “I'm ready for pick up.”

A crowd of Toons had begun to assemble around them. They had angry looks on their faces but were hesitant to act. Ursula put her mobile away and withdrew her hand, claws unsheathed. She brandished them warningly at the crowd. “Not another step Toons. I'd hate to have a reason to use these on you.”

Their looks of anger were swiftly replaced by fear. The ones at the forefront of the crowd trampled on the toes of the ones behind them in their haste to put distance between themselves and the sudden appearance of Ursula's claws.

A small group of them was suddenly parted by a tan hen Toon in a baby blue dress. “Hey! What are you doing with my son?” she demanded.

“Ah, _Mrs_ Gearloose,” the hybrid sneered. “Please tell your husband we await his arrival at Lawbot Headquarters.”

As if that was a cue, the Lawbot Second-in-Command, 159-2 descended from the sky. Ursula threw Techno at him. He caught the Toon and tucked him under one arm.

“Techno!” Amanda Gearloose cried and run forward. Straight into Ursula. She yelped as the hybrid seized her arms roughly.

“Now, now,” she shoved the hen Toon back into the crowd. Three of them quickly stepped forward to catch her fall. “Remember what I just told you.” She stepped back and was swept up smoothly into 159-2's other arm. His propellors roared to life and they ascended into the sky.

Techno struggled in the Lawbot's grip looking terrified. “Moooooom,” he called reaching out a hand to her.

“It'll be okay, baby,” Amanda called back, mirroring his gesture. “We’ll sort this out.”

The young Toon whimpered and nodded then shut his eyes tight so he couldn't see the ground moving away.

She watched them until they were out of sight, then whipped out a blackhole and warped home to inform her husband.

 


End file.
